In a world with no future
And in a time that made no sense
Existence had stopped and stood still
Factories pumping the weapons of wartime
Made with intention to kill
Now, we're a nuclear wasteland
A world full of hatred
We sat and watched it all go by
News breaking coverage of the people all dying
And no one ever asked why
What will we tell the children?
Will there be any left to hear?
Will the children be able to listen?
Or will they all be hiding in fear?
There's a man on the TV, talking away
Telling the death toll for today
But no one is watching
Nobody is listening
Cause they've all been taken away
Stuck in the camps or handed machine guns
They were told to fight for a cause
Now they're killing their brothers and they're killing their mothers
To keep their own lives from being lost.
Over time, the numbers had increased
The flesh piles stacked up high
Nothing will change, unless we are to change it
And the dying will continue to die
What will we tell the children?
Will there be any left to hear?
Will the children be able to listen?
Or will they all be hiding in fear?
What happened to all of the children?
What stories will we have left to be said?
How will the children hear them?
Once all the children are dead....
And in a time that made no sense
Existence had stopped and stood still
Factories pumping the weapons of wartime
Made with intention to kill
Now, we're a nuclear wasteland
A world full of hatred
We sat and watched it all go by
News breaking coverage of the people all dying
And no one ever asked why
What will we tell the children?
Will there be any left to hear?
Will the children be able to listen?
Or will they all be hiding in fear?
There's a man on the TV, talking away
Telling the death toll for today
But no one is watching
Nobody is listening
Cause they've all been taken away
Stuck in the camps or handed machine guns
They were told to fight for a cause
Now they're killing their brothers and they're killing their mothers
To keep their own lives from being lost.
Over time, the numbers had increased
The flesh piles stacked up high
Nothing will change, unless we are to change it
And the dying will continue to die
What will we tell the children?
Will there be any left to hear?
Will the children be able to listen?
Or will they all be hiding in fear?
What happened to all of the children?
What stories will we have left to be said?
How will the children hear them?
Once all the children are dead....
Contributed by Alessandro - 2009/4/2 - 15:14
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