Words that burn aren't hard to learn
but leave a nasty blister.
So teach the youth to love themselves
their brothers and their sisters.
It's energy that's going dictate
how the cards will play.
Some lie in bed, they clutch a cross.
Lie waiting for the day.

The meek will then inherit.
All that's broken
all that's left behind.
The remnants of an orchestra
not parallel with natures lines.

A generation left to grasp
the sorry shadow of the past.
I hope they will forgive us, why?
We left them sail without a mast.

Upon sick oceans rising fast.