phoenixowen
Bluelighter
Well the silent lay sleeping
Beneath the blood stricken moon.
They will speak none to stop this pain.
Blood flows in the streets and the truth be dead soon.
& the silent, they just pray for rain.
& if none will speak then they shall all fall.
It is a madness I cannot understand.
What is the logic? Together they fall?
But such are the ways of man.
The sleeping will destroy themselves with silence
They will lay sidelong, see it come to pass.
The mud and the mess and the violence,
They will watch each man die to the last.
Why will man not speak at this?
They cry for the dead, yet are to blame.
Is there some sort of joy in the good-bye kiss?
They could stop it, but remain silent, just the same.
Is it fear of difference, discrace or being alone?
I know that this truth they can see.
Why will men not speak to save their homes?
Why make life a mockery?
For men were once brave, and men were once bold&
The innocent suffer as the rest die 'coz we let ourselves fall this deep.
& silence was never golden.
& men were not always asleep.
But the silent lay sleeping beneath their blood stricken moon,
It is their silence that causes this pain.
& the truth that is dead, amoungst the blood in the streets,
Will be washed away with the rain.
Beneath the blood stricken moon.
They will speak none to stop this pain.
Blood flows in the streets and the truth be dead soon.
& the silent, they just pray for rain.
& if none will speak then they shall all fall.
It is a madness I cannot understand.
What is the logic? Together they fall?
But such are the ways of man.
The sleeping will destroy themselves with silence
They will lay sidelong, see it come to pass.
The mud and the mess and the violence,
They will watch each man die to the last.
Why will man not speak at this?
They cry for the dead, yet are to blame.
Is there some sort of joy in the good-bye kiss?
They could stop it, but remain silent, just the same.
Is it fear of difference, discrace or being alone?
I know that this truth they can see.
Why will men not speak to save their homes?
Why make life a mockery?
For men were once brave, and men were once bold&
The innocent suffer as the rest die 'coz we let ourselves fall this deep.
& silence was never golden.
& men were not always asleep.
But the silent lay sleeping beneath their blood stricken moon,
It is their silence that causes this pain.
& the truth that is dead, amoungst the blood in the streets,
Will be washed away with the rain.
