Place, this is where
|
The giants roam, and their horses stand so tall
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And their fists engaged
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And fingers bent back to the palm, except one
|
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You ain't seen nothing yet
|
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And all my judges burn, from their gunshot eyes
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A direct line that travels at the speed of light
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Into my heart, into my mind
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I read between the lions
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The forest grows from their eyes
|
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I was not placed upon the grass
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Of this ever fading earth
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For a standing ovation, and its romance
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I was placed for the warning, so heed the warning
|
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And they cannot look away
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For if they do
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And cross paths with a wall
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That reflects all it sees
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And it shows the truth
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Shows the fake
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Shows the past
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Show all of the mistakes
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And it shows everything
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That they refuse to see
|
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Because if there's blood on the roots
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Then there's blood on the branches
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|
-----------------
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The Deaf Policemen
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| The Chariot |
