You hear them all the time
Can't you hear them cry?
Well, I can't, I defy
You are just urban to the core
Cant you just open the door.
The door to where?
I stand and stare.
Oh you know! The one that leads to hell's lair.
Wear your glasses for you shall see,
The road that leads to poverty.
And so he saw...
The fires that lit up the night.
Where am I? This is not a sight I wish to see,
See you must it's my decree
See their faces and feel the pain,
Hear them sing the melancholy strain.
You must know emotions are not for hire,
Their loved ones burn on the funeral pyre.
The night is dark, the night is red
Innocent lives ended with lead.
Look at their eyes, what do they care?
Sullen eyes fixed to a lifeless stare,
Eyes once bright.
Frolicking away on the mediterranean soil,
Bright eyed they were,
Before someone decided to steal their oil,
And painted the soil a crimson red,
From land of hopes to a land of the dead.
« return.