| We believe, but we are deceased
|
| Or soon to be
|
| I act surprised
|
| You’ve seen the seas
|
| It’s just enough to feed the trees
|
| We believe, but we are not free
|
| This wasteland is our prison
|
| I act surprised
|
| I see the bones through your skin
|
| This radiation from within
|
| I grant you
|
| This torn land, I’d rather not, live here anymore
|
| Don’t say I didn’t try
|
| But I’d rather not, live here anymore
|
| We believe but we don’t see
|
| The coming of the storm
|
| I act surprised
|
| There are warnings from time to time
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| Signs of our own decline
|
| We are the scavengers
|
| We plunder and rape
|
| We’re the guests here
|
| The new breed
|
| But act like it’s ours to take
|
| I grant you
|
| This torn land, I’d rather not, live here anymore
|
| Don’t say I didn’t try
|
| But I’d rather not, live here anymore
|
| (We believe but we don’t see)
|
| I grant you
|
| This torn land, I’d rather not, live here anymore
|
| Don’t say I didn’t try
|
| But I’d rather not, live here anymore
|
| I grant you
|
| This torn land, I’d rather not
|
| Don’t say I didn’t try
|
| But I’d rather not, live here anymore |