| A stand, a wall, a fiat in us all
|
| Something that will take away
|
| This nonsense soon, one of these days
|
| The demand, the call, it will come soon I can hear us all
|
| Talking one day about the ones that we love instead of
|
| Hanging around waiting for signs from above
|
| Hey, hey I too want change, I’m not talking about faith, I will pay
|
| For evidence of the numbness and pain
|
| Of anyone with guns, the money or the planes
|
| I hear you saying I am just one kid, that we can’t do what one thousand once did
|
| But let me leave you with this simple idea
|
| And maybe one of you might run with it for real
|
| On that day will we be original spies?
|
| Through dusty Lucite will the sun still rise?
|
| Will strange new days, striated with strain contain your relocated slang and
|
| those incredible eyes?
|
| Truant treasures come from zealots sounding, Jensens pounding
|
| By way of last year’s sonic stencils
|
| We are working it out, if only with pencils, but
|
| Underneath the same, same skies as those ones pushing the same, same lies, so
|
| Grab a pen, turn of the CNN
|
| And scratch me out some plans to get together again
|
| In that way will we be original spies?
|
| With trusty foresight will the sun still rise?
|
| Will strained new days, saturated with strange contain your relocated slang and
|
| those incredible eyes?
|
| Hey, hey I too want change, I’m not talking about faith, I will pay
|
| For evidence of the numbness and pain
|
| Of anyone with guns, the money or the planes
|
| I hear you saying I am just one kid, that we can’t do what one thousand once did
|
| But let me leave you with this simple idea
|
| And maybe one of you might run with it for real
|
| On that day will we be original spies?
|
| Through dusty Lucite will the sun still rise?
|
| Will strange new days, striated with strain contain your relocated slang and
|
| those incredible eyes? |