Creation

through the crisp walls of thunder by the wild envy trail the broken path of wonder was left all but shaken down the ruins creep the ivy to meet the lost stones of pride they pass the failing foundatins that still are braking they are braking for the concious and braking for the brave crashing into limozines for folks fresh from the grave yeah the pointers and the laughers raise their hands to be saved looking to be the finders of creation friends tell the tall tail of wonders in the night stories of rekless fakers and fleetless fathers seas they rise with the storm that trembils the whole world round as the thunder cracks like the sky is finaly dying is it dying for some writen cause or dyiing for the kind or faking it all for a stumbled on unknown idol yeah they pactice and they preach from books line by line looking to be the finders of creation creeping like a stolen tail through lands of no abide clinging to all patrons and fathers of the bride foiling in the common gutter in every town in sight reaping past the cotton fields in the darkness of the nigt reaping for the winners who know more than they do reaping for the loosers who seen the deal go through and nailed it fast down to the ground thinking thougts we never knew looking to be the findrs of creaton up steps a man of no award who payed his country due held in his arms a sranger the man noone knew and spoke of cowards on the hill and his words sting true o matter if they are dead or lame or just like me and you they are lieing for the future that the comon man dont know lieing for the outbrake and every man made flu don trust the words that are told and eat only what you grow save yourself from the killers of creation