red

Where have you been my brown eyed love?

What have you seen my mystic, young one?

Have you been down the roads that are dead & haunted?

Have you visited the streets whose wails don’t reach?

Have you seen that toddler die in the garbage?

Have you smelled the scent of burning & disease?

For if you haven’t you should now.

Before this place turns into a ghost town

Without a sound or a trace of belonging

Without laughter and a sense of bonding

Before the flood gates open and drown us all

We’ll be living but dead

And the color of the rain will be red

Where were you till now my brown eyed love?

What have you head my ignorant young one?

Did you hear the sound of that screaming woman in the alley?

Did you hear the saints that sold their gods to the devil?

Did you hear that bird dying with thirst?

Did you hear that crunch of plastic on the road?

Did you hear the dying of the gods that never existed?

Did you hear the marching of the soldiers following orders

And killing the people that formed the place that was won?

For if you didn’t you should.

Before those gasping for breathe are gone

Torn by the famine of hatred

And the silence of those that left things unsaid

For they are living but dead

And the color of the rain was red

Where will you go now my brown eyed love?

What have you felt till now my lonesome young one?

Did you feel the sound of that blast in your ear?

Did you count the number of those that died that were dear?

Did you feel the city drown in their families tears?

Did you feel that cause that is worth fighting for?

Did you do things beyond your needs?

Did you stand up when none could?

Did you fight and go down on your shield?

Did you conquer and never yeild?

For if you didn’t you should.

Bring to light the night long prevailing

The injustice in their ways and gods

The lies, the deubachery and drunken lords

Masquarding as what they ain’t

Kill the saints

For you side with the angels but you ain’t one

And knowing yourself is half the battle won

Do it

So others can live and not be dead

And the color of the rain is never red

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