Out damned spot!
Out I say!", overseeing the damage we create.
Stuck the knife to the hilt.
Now I'm the one who bares the guilt.
Just a bard in hero's dress.
Sing the songs, life's a mess.
A fib everytime I say I'm free.
War is over, battle's done.
We're brokenhearted and evil won.
Lick our wound to satiate.
An overwhelming urge to retaliate.
Heads down, hides the shame.
Of a reluctant agent of change.
We'll carry the burden for eternity.
With ashen faces and extended fingers.
We point the blame for what's been done.
But with mouths agape we find a way to sing along.
With reddened faces and pointed fingers.
We express disdain at what's been done.
Yet we all know the words to sing along to the songs.
The better days that we extol.
Were wasted away by youthful fools.
We ushered in all that corrupts.
Now we're drowning in the glut.
Are or dreams worth anymore than the ones that came before?
Why can't we accept the responsibility?
With ashen faces and extended fingers.
We point the blame for what's been done.
But with mouth agapes we find a way to sing along.
With reddened faces and pointed fingers.
We express disdain at what's been done.
Yet we all know the words to sing along the songs.
For a second I figured it out, but it fell apart.
For a second I thought it out, but it fell apart.
For a second that it all made sense, but it fell apart.
For a second I made peace with it, but it fell apart.
Why should I be any special?
Why shouldn't I feel conflicted?
Why should I be any different?
This after all is what we inflicted?
With ashen faces and extended fingers.
We point the blame for what's been done.
But with mouths agape we find a way to sing along.
With reddened faces and pointed fingers.
We express disdain at what's been done.
Yet we all know the words to sing along the songs.