Caricamento in corso...

Worldwide Commision

It’s time we all address it
None of us are perfect
Lovin’ everybody should be forgotten as a forfeit
Depression, resistance, bullying the autistic
Saying those words and swearing you never meant it
Physical, mental, torment, obstruction of the heart
Claustrophobic, homeless, livin’ in the dark
Begging for change; maybe someone knows who they are
 
This is the start of a worldwide commission
'Cause I’m tired of seein’ people but seein’ none of em livin’
Is this the world you want to leave for your children
Restless, suicide, survival of the fittest
Mentally impaired started out with a witness
A mother, a father maybe hidden in the bleachers
You’d never know him as the man who dreamed of cheerleaders
And now all he has become is an insect feeder
He killed him, but you killed him
Hell, we all play a part in it
 
Sickened, obsessive
Damn right cruel and demented
Homesick, worthless
Bloody by the work of your own hand
Hoping, waiting for someone to tell you you’re worth it
Nightmares, judging stares
God is my witness
Maybe he’s torn apart or maybe he started this
He’ll never answer or listen to my questions
We live by our own laws, parents and lessons
Why should we hate us
Why do we lie
As though we have no wings and nowhere to fly
We are made up of atoms
Worthless space
We live lives that are such a waste
 
Yeah,
This is the start of a worldwide commission
'Cause I’m tired of seein’ people but seein’ none of em livin’
Is this the world you want to leave for your children
Restless, suicide, survival of the fittest
Mentally impaired started out with a witness
A mother, a father maybe hidden in the bleachers
You’d never know him as the man who dreamed of cheerleaders
And now all he has become is an insect feeder
He killed him, but you killed him
Hell, we all play a part in it
 
This is our world
Our women, men and children
Maybe we should open our ears and actually start to listen
Maybe we’ll find out just what we’ve been missin’
Distant love that has reached out for so long
A drowning memory of a fading song
It’s not too far gone
No, not yet
Altre opere di S. Morris...



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