If we are victims of circumstance
We have been ***** by angels and shared beds with devils
But it's hard to stomach the food
That would let hunger evaporate
Like holy water

The population of Earth floated into Heaven
While I clung to my tree roots
And my flowers and my excess
"If I am fated to die here
Then I shall do so without regret"

There are atrocities
Of cynics and skeptics
Of broken hearts
But if love is not real
Than nothing is

The words of truth
That a woman can speak
Is an ambulance chaser
With a rose in its teeth
Biting down on the thorns

The origins of war
Lie in the cowboys and indians
That run around in the front yard
Always one too many pick up a gun
To wash their minds in cold blood