drumbeats mimicking gunfire

the youngest eyes cloud easier

turn dark and dull and grey

they make it so much harder

to explain the world's mistakes.

...

and all because of fury

and hatred in our lives

they cannot live in harmony

or peace without lies

...

there is something more to histr'y

something more to hide

and all because of hatred

they're hidden by the lies

....

and oh they say it's hopeless

to defend the ones they lost

but something, somewhere all alone

cannot measure up the cost

...

so we charge upon the mountains

and strike up from the rot

to defend the lives before us

and to justify the cost

...

but it all becomes pointless

the purpose disappears

there's nothing more to help them

or to comfort their falling tears.

...

for one final time we'll listen

listen and learn what was done

remembering the silence

from the ones passed along

...

and at last they'll reach the kindness

a gentle outreached hand

their pathway of justice beats again

to the King of the Nightime's dreams.

-

Fin.