your killing the dream and i don't know why
i fly in into the irony of what should and what is not
into the random into the forgot
your stabbing the soul but not the eye

see the people see the stars
the cells in the everlasting body attack
now the tears of what will never be brought back
as we are so far from what should be ours

the dream is alive the dream in a child
until the kiddies are dark with the rest
the fires are only so far from the west
and to think that a sword was once wild

the innocent are few, the hatred many
what would we do with out our clout?
it is the entire human race that is filled with doubt
we would throw away beauty now for the shadow of a penny

the capitalists are not the only ones guilty
tales and stories of war fought over special beggars and wine
crimes of physical death are not the only plagues of our time
the innocent mind has been covered by a world most filthy

take out the minds of the young before they are ready
worship god bow your head
then destroy all who are mislead
what happens then when not a child any more the gun is quite steady

the cells now view each other all as potential cancer
have you ever seen the mind of a child snap
easily forgotten in the grand story and its plastic wrap
there is nothing more comical than looking at more problems for the answer

blame the video games blame the parents
the fantasy world is all thats left for them now
our own world is so badly stained can you blame an escape even to WoW
the stain of the blame is easy to pass in our sick torrents

Parental Advisory the rating R
no sense in hiding from what you have become
in the end all innocence dies and now what have we done
we are left with a human who would never value a friend over his new car

FCC what shall it be
tell me what i am supposed to know
when do i stop or do not pass go
because certainly you know what is best for me

fortune 500 companies galore
we suck the world dry
then we watch the deformed children cry
ti's amazing then when the color is green we are suddenly a whore

superficial wants plastic wishes
love is lost now there is lust
with out trust good sex is a must
yet the heart can only hold so many stitches

all the negative now all the dark
we spiral downward into the abyss
but it will only be so long before we meet our own fiery bliss
let it not be said that the human race never left its mark

hear it now hear it later
the gears are turning the clock is ticking
when the pieces are in place near extinction could echo in the clicking
but in the end the ones who are needed will be beat down by the evil that is now greater

Learn more about this author, Mark Stewart.
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