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1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4 |
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In this world, we have gone |
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Out on our own, all alone in stone |
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Looking for time that passes us by |
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You tired and old you may get left behind |
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In this world we hope to see |
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Invisible signs of our democracy so |
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Maybe somehow we all can say |
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That it's worth the blood that we leave on the stage |
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For in this world we make a stand |
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For suffering minds of unknown lands |
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But the water balloon are 2 left feet |
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Can never rise above our political heat |
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For in this world we voice and |
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It's lout as hell if we have the choice |
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Don't consume them best to fill your lives |
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Then we feed our kids what we leave behind |
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In this world we have to shake and |
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Man the hand that button breaks |
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If we hesitate we not forget |
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About the hard ticks written for last month's rent, mhm |
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How in the hell can we progress |
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If we're all out of work hooked on pills for stress |
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They tell us, up in heaven there is food for eat |
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But for now all we get is this shit on the street |
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For in this world we just can't trust |
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And food stamps filling our bellies up |
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Homeless kids on forgotten roads |
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Let's hope they can bear when the winter cold cause |
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The spark within the youngest eye |
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Can slowly fade with the whisper cry |
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So lend your heart and all you know |
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And relieve the pain so the good can grow |
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Relieve the pain so the good can grow. |
