By Alex Gray

And with the change it split the one,

   Came fire on flesh, now masked as fun.

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And all who follow the splendid touch,

   Fulfilment, peace, and love no such.

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And look within the horror near,

   For some numb reason, I don't see fear.

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And maybe because of the blindness we are,

   We cannot see near, and we cannot see far.

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And history repeats in some shape or form,

   Each decade a new anti-life will be born.

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And into the the fire, the newest take part,

   Disguised in false beauty, music, or art.

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And still we are told just what needs to be,

   Continue with blindness to what we can see.

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And even with visions we always may choose,

   More often than not, the result is to lose.

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And when does it stop? And when does it end?

   What cause and effect will yield us to bend?

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And who can be seen in the steel on the floor?

   The moment it's gone, you're shoved out the door.

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And all that we need, in essence will seek,

   The filling of pots spilling over with bleak.

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And all that we are, and all that we know, is not as evolved as we think from the bow,

   And damage is done with purpose and might, which speeds away faster and further from light.

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And size and sight must, cos that’s who we are. The lust and the hurt are not seen from afar,

   And all that is done, shedding pain and more blood, comes wrath and disgust in the form of a flood.

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And many just look at the way that it seems - start cheering and choosing, we’re split into teams,

   And even back then, in the past, days of old, we never learn stories and truths we were told.

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And pain with mistakes that surely repeat, only long after crash will decide to retreat,

   And when lies get painted unfairly abroad, to get along now we can hardly afford.

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And life, two and four, is mercy to stand. Comes banging and drumming, a march-away band,

   And power and greed given all the desire. One branded, not true, the pride of a liar.

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And all of the seasons, the change-bell will ring. The masses will mass and continue to sing,

   And sight at the back of the famous black book, should really consider a purposeful look.

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And if we believe that now is the time, our path along there will end almost fine,

   And if we forget about all of the war, the tyrant again will continue to soar.

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And all that is left for those who will stay. Sit back and relax, and don’t run away!