There would be more love songs, if only they weren't caught up in hate. Kids leave their futures in bathroom stalls along with the food they last ate. There's no vision here, I watched the stars disappear, behind black clouds created by rejection and fear. Another pill to swallow, not the one the mother forgot to take as she accidently starts a family, no ring, no party, no cake. But the unsubscribed medicine that were all forced to take. You know the one, they claim to take for fun, it's the dose of culture that leaves them burnt out like a post-apocalyptic sun. It's written on the faces of the children, the parents might as well be the ones who **** them. Hold their heads down in the tub, feed them painkillers til they have no feeling, help hang the noose from the fan on the ceiling. Because they're not shown how to love, how to give a hug, but boys are taught to shove their feelings under the rug. And girls to wear as little as possible. not how to be a bride , but man's biggest obstacle. It's a tainted  generation, a flaw of the world we live in. The youth of today is captured by the beauty of their ugly sin. Damaged by pain held within, crushed by the weight of anger, trying to lead themselves when what they really need is Him. Him who made all that is good, but is so commonly misunderstood. Who's name made it to the back of money but still doesn't get the attention that he should. It's quite the sickening process, to watch a people  degress, to come to terms that my generation is becoming less and less. Culture teaches it's okay to act like a boligerant fool, as long as you don't mention the name Jesus Christ in a public school. But fathers wonder why their baby girls dance on poles while howling men drool and they can't pry their children from a bar stool. Is this how it's planned to be? Always trust the president, keep watching the idiots on MTV? Until the world passes by and the
sun burns out from the sky? I wont stand by, I'll freely speak my heart and my mind. Because I truly believe in change even in these times.

The floorboards creek, rain beats on
the windows and you still smile
I can't see my hand
in front of my face
the other's locked in yours

Lying right here, no doubt I would
I'd prescribe this to the weak
Laughter at night
coffee in the morning
Oh what a rich bestowal

But how do you fall for a skeleton
tell me what's there to catch you
We're in the sheets
but I'm breaking apart
You can call it love if you're handy

Because my frame you'll have to rebuild
My eyes you'll have to open
My skin you'll have to sew
because I'm not the man you think

I watched that flag blow in the wind,
Wrinkled like ripples in a pond
Like the people of its land, it had been through hell
And I just sat there watching it in the summer breeze
While some men fought for what it means
Halfway down its silver pole
There’s always a tragedy
Like the King of Nazareth, humiliated
Like a forgotten child, left out in the cold
All full of pain, no one takes him in when it rains