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A time to be real
half finished scriptures
written for my tounge
but yet i sing no words
new found journey's while im still young
but ill never see the world
who are we kidding with these dreams?
what fool are we trying to fool?
is it ourselves that need to hear these things?
to keep us from losing our cool?
What a LIE
sung to my face
what a PRICE
to live in this place
I cannot cry another tear,
I will not waste
My finesse
I cannot handle any more jeers
no more time loveless
At this point death seems grand
that is something i cannot protest
But something here holds my hand
I cling tight, I must confess.
And who in this room in all honesty can say this world will live on?
Who in this room with honesty can say that this world will last
past
its 2012th day?
Who in this room can speak for our dead?>
those who were murdered by kinsmen
Who in this room has never said ,
that for them pain has never been?
this world is our room
Where we grow loved but beaten
this room is our womb
where we feed from the cord of our mother of eden
Imagine this place without the boundries of reason
take yourself past outer space
and live with all new creatures and season
If magic were real, not that i think its fake
If souls were not sealed and love was easier to make
Imagine a time of finding
imagine a time of unwinding
A time to be much more real
