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To the thoughts of the many from the minds of the few |
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Voice of reason, censored view |
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The truth is the News and the News is the truth |
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As if that'll do as a lame excuse for |
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Killing the slavers, taking the slaves |
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Burying the dead, then robbing the graves |
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Stealing the modesty from heroes brave |
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Making the tears gush like waves |
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Ch: Deadeye watches, still the killing carries on |
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To the rhythm of the gunfire and the voices of concern |
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Deadeye claims to be some conscience for us all |
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But I was never born to be some fly upon the wall |
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Window dressing and the tinsel wreath |
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Stealing the pity and the widow's grief |
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Sentimental with a furrowed brow |
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Pinning the heart on the blooded sleeve |
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Ch: Deadeye watches, still the killing carries on . . . |
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And yes I've crouched beneath the glow - dazzled by it all |
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But this is not the world I know or people I recall. |
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To the thoughts of the many from the minds of the few: |
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Voice of reason, censored view |
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A little knowledge is a dangerous thing |
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Here is the butterfly, here's the wing |
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Ch: Deadeye watches, still the killing carries on . . . |
