| I’m lost in reverie
|
| You and I are seventeen
|
| Everything is still, not a shake nor tremble
|
| And then slowly our loathing will interfere
|
| And our hatred begets a ubiquitous fear
|
| And now
|
| When it feels like there’s no control
|
| Are we forgetting that this place is our home?
|
| This blue-green spinning rock
|
| Orientation, nor race, not religion, or name can earn
|
| Our hate
|
| We don’t need height but width to unite
|
| No arms raised but arms strung along
|
| Nothing to fear except for fear itself
|
| We all feel love and pain
|
| We all bleed the same, don’t we? |
| (don't we)
|
| The need for change is not the whim of an hour
|
| We can only break inertia with relinquished power
|
| If the yen of unity resides high and dry
|
| On the spotless mezzanine in the mortal mind and once
|
| Every drop of life has been wrung out of our pores
|
| Mark my words, this vast green earth will groan to turn
|
| Will we still insist on using our fists?
|
| We don’t need our fists to learn
|
| And when we are dead and truly alone
|
| Are we remembered by our faith or skin tone
|
| Who we fuck, who we don’t
|
| Or by our love of this life
|
| The child still inside survives, our hate
|
| We don’t need height but width to unite
|
| No arms raised but arms strung along
|
| Nothing to fear except for fear itself
|
| We all feel love and pain
|
| We all bleed the same, don’t we? |
| (don't we)
|
| We don’t need height but width to unite
|
| No arms raised but arms strung along
|
| Nothing to fear except for fear itself
|
| We all feel love and pain
|
| We all bleed the same, don’t we? |
| (don't we)
|
| Don’t we? |