| Lyrics: | the brown and orange sky holds its breath
as the sun retreats to the distant horizon,
and
our hearts palpitate anxiously as we soon will lay supine,
and wait for sleep to overcome
us
and from somewhere in our black,
subconscious minds when we're asleep,
comes a
haunting swelling mass of voices,
resonating, its screams of forgotten victims and the cries of
innocence,
and the desperate plea for recognition and recompense
tiny voices, echoes of
our heritage,
our long and sallow faces turn the other way,
tiny voices, harbored deep
within
as we outwardly deny that they have something to say,
and if we don't confront them
they will never go away
the billions of tiny pinhole embers fade into a morning sky
filled
with poignant morose wonder,
waking a bear a cosmetic peace that verifies the
turmoil
which we carry deep inside |
