The emptiness that we confess In the dimmest hour of day In Automatown they make a sound Like the low sad moan of prey The bitter taste the hidden face Of the lost forgotten child The darkest need the slowest speed The debt unreconciled These photographs mean nothing To the poison that they take Before a moments glory The light begins to fade The awful cost of all we lost As we looked the other way Weve paid the price of this cruel device Till weve nothing left to pay The river goes where the current flows The light we must destroy Events conspire to set afire The methods we employ These dead men walk on water Cold blood runs through their veins The angry river rises As we step into the rain
Posted on: Sat, 27 Dec 2014 01:30:35 +0000