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Walked through the hall of reflection |
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There, I bared my soul |
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For months I carried this weight |
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Got used to uncomfortable |
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Faces leap from the mirrors dotted along the path |
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Each one it swears they have answers to all the questions |
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That my lost heart could ask |
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And when the monarchy tires |
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They lust for violence |
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And so they send out the paupers |
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And the mother is crying |
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She's singing, "bring my children home, home" |
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She's screaming, "bring my children home, home" |
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All that I've learned in my life |
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I cannot purport to know |
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Energy constantly transforms |
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If there's a meaning, it's probably meaningless |
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And when the monarchy tires |
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Oh, they lust for violence |
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To entertain all the paupers |
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And the father is crying |
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He screaming, "bring my children home, home" |
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He singing, "bring my children home, home" |
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Stand tall, my brothers |
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Naked as a flame |
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You're the one that they wanted now |
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Give back the mother's heart! |
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Buried beneath the blame |
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Stay true, my sisters |
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Impervious to their shame |
