Monday, 16 March 2009

How far can this go, this self-righteous deal

How far can this go, this self-righteous deal

The days of danger lingerly stroll like a balancing act

of ice and fire, salt and steel

There’s nothing here for your soul

It spreads out before like poisonous mud

It grips you in and clogs up your blood

There will come a time when we will all have to cry

We will have to cry before we die

Some are dead already they say with a moan

Some moan already they say with the dead

I’m here now down on my hands and my knees

But they would rather be dead than turn their keys

Oh I could howl all night

I could howl at the moon, at the stars and sky

I could howl with you

I could howl into the air

My howling would find no reward

except myself feeling sad

I shall cry but my tears can not be seen

I shall sing but my voice will not be heard

This is a world of iron and steel

This is a world where death is the only word

No comments: