i'm choking on hypocrisy a squalid swollen seed you gorge on unimportant and starve on what you need i've had enough of christmas sales and tributes to the dead enough of scandalous details on which you all are fed so soaps and talk shows get you off the spectacle of pain and while your children kill their friends you tell me who's to blame
give me something real to see children without guns give me something real to hear laughter drunk in fun give me something real to hold hands which shed no blood give me something real to know my children will grow up
please shield me from the misery thrust at me from the tube the rusty sword of suffering packaged poison doom so knives and courtrooms get you off celebrity and fame and wide-eyed you sit hypnotized to feed on other's shame
give me something real to see children without guns give me something real to hear laughter drunk in fun give me something real to hold hands which shed no blood give me something real to know my children will grow upTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
