The night is black
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Without a moon
|
The air is thick and still
|
The vigilantes gather on
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The lonely torch lit hill
|
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Features distorted in the flickering light
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The faces are twisted and grotesque
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Silent and stern in the sweltering night
|
The mob moves like demons possessed
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Quiet in conscience, calm in their right
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Confident their ways are best
|
|
The righteous rise
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With burning eyes
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Of hatred and ill-will
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Madmen fed on fear and lies
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To beat and burn and kill
|
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They say there are strangers who threaten us
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In our immigrants and infidels
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They say there is strangeness too dangerous
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In our theaters and bookstore shelves
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That those who know what's best for us
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Must rise and save us from ourselves
|
|
Quick to judge
|
Quick to anger
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Slow to understand
|
Ignorance and prejudice
|
And fear walk hand in hand...
|
|
-----------------
|
Witch Hunt
|
| Rush |
