Alone she was,
And we face this journey alone.
Helpless and weak,
Dependent on others’ decisions and needs.
But who’s to say what is right?
To protect a soul or to save a life?
Is it a plague or a gift —
The ability to create in the way of the Gods?
We are instinctual artists.
Atlas had nothing on what we’ve got.
When half a race carries the weight of existence,
And society shuns most circumstances,
Reputation screams to conform
And cast out anything deviating from the norm.
The only way to believe your lies
Is to spread them far and spread them wide.
Creation like a limitless universe…
But boundaries are what define size…
Wake up!
Remember nightmares
By sharing them upon gaining consciousness.
(Wake up!)
A flooded nation is soon to spoil,
So wave your flags west!
Equality will never be attained,
When blaming Eve for the sins we’ve gained.
A fighter until the end,
But sympathy only kicked in once she was dead.
The sacrifice of a life,
Or rather an exchange, instead.
Pity, regret and sorrow turned into hope,
But even then the newborn winds up dead.
Black — whight; wrong — right.
Quite simple hypocrisy.
Since when is an accident a responsibility?
If you play God once, I can play God twice.
Give me the decision, and I’ll handle the fight.
Materialism now subsides.
The only way to believe your lies
Is to spread them far and spread them wide.
Creation like a limitless universe…
But boundaries are what define size…
Tradition exists when no one has the guts to change.
Someone asked me what the difference one can make one day.
For we’re the moss, the Earth — the stone,
So let us do as did the Tree.
For silence will long be ignored,
And action recognized quickly.
What if I should have?..
Hindsight always haunts me.
A thousand Judases could never stop me.
Slings and arrows disappoint and taunt me.
But I’m not wrong and I’ll sacrifice everything,
Just because I know the way since the beginning.
Hindsight always haunts me, and then the bough breaks.