Age of Iron

Should the human tale Become nothing more than a tear Sorrow written quiet In the dumb mouths of history Grey within the sunlight Dark inside the love All proof to the conscience We forgot Where are we now in this grand future When any child any where, dies of hunger When medication controls the young And sends it’s tendrils of disaffection into everyone Should the human story, be written so In entertainments celluloid war Portrayed by the gangsters and bankster of bullet and blood And marched upon the killing fields of propaganda Is this us Is this what we have become To be governed and guided by the faceless Bloated egos of wealth and greed To be made ever less And forced to live under their duress Cowering now beneath our willing blindness While the nameless skin tight skeletons Beg us For the mountains of food we store in supermarkets We weep in the anguish of our souls, in silence The truth carved among us While we dedicate the boredom of our discontent To the next phase of pressing entertainment Should the human tale Become nothing more than a tear Sorrow written quiet In the dumb mouths of history We have become the weapons And the finger trigger pull on them For nothing more than mindless acquisition To live in regret, this age of iron To pass each day and each life Burying the truth in an evidence of sand We who lived We who survived Did so by the death, of our brother and sisters In some far off and foreign land Where out of sight Became out of mind