The Throne

When in my heart I feel a shade And I see that darkness blend into a grey. When a soul corrupts from spite and hate When all they are is led astray, one kind act. May be our tomorrow's sorrows saved. As our innocent suffer, and our privileged feel blessed. Whats there to show For every breath we invest? In the clothes and the cars, and the goods that we make. We watch rich men laugh As they skip to the bank. For what evil lives in this cruel world Does so in the grey. It lies not in the poor families shambled house, or the homeless man sleeping in the cold night. Not even the criminal who repented for his mistakes. If what is good and true is what they embrace. Where wealthy men sit and lament in fine clothing But to the poor? He says "No sir not one cent more!" "To hell with the jesus crap, I paid for these church walls!" "I made my own fortune, poor people should too" "Everything I did is what you could do too!" Then he walks right through the house of god's doors. He smiles and shakes hands with our daughters and sons Where if you looked deep in his heart You would tell them to run. What lies in his soul is what tears us apart There is such where all demons hide, Where daylight flees a pale winter sun, And the blood moon rises Above a withered sacred oak, Where legions march The rivers run with blood The houses empty No fires in those hearths and all the wealthy man's souls, sit beside him on the throne.