Revolte
10-10-2010, 03:10 AM
There is a child in your city
who begs, busks and cries,
he dines on dust and mud
while you poor your glass of wine.
There is a man of age next door
who seldom sees his kids,
he stares at fading photos
while you show yours games and tricks.
There is a wife made to a widow
when her husband left for war,
she thinks of dying daily
while you drift to dream with yours.
There is a sense that somethings missing
something out of place,
perhaps you have forgotten
what gos on every day.
Your neighbors who are mourning
the ones that wish to die,
the ones who lost their families
and the ones who wake to cry.
You think your problems matter
and perhaps it's true they do,
but surely I'd feed the homeless
before I'd give my bread to you.
For that you'll call me selfish
spoiled and a brat,
but that's not true at all
its more that I give back.
So take your high class job
your kids, your car, your wife
and I'll take my loving heart
and help the lost find life.
I wont lie I'm not a saint
I sin more then I speak,
but if there's anything I know
it's to feed the starved and weak.
For when I die I'm sure
I'll end up in some hell
but I wont be alone,
I'll have you to make my trail.
You see I might lost
and I bet that you are too,
but alive you served yourself
and dead you'll serve me too.
who begs, busks and cries,
he dines on dust and mud
while you poor your glass of wine.
There is a man of age next door
who seldom sees his kids,
he stares at fading photos
while you show yours games and tricks.
There is a wife made to a widow
when her husband left for war,
she thinks of dying daily
while you drift to dream with yours.
There is a sense that somethings missing
something out of place,
perhaps you have forgotten
what gos on every day.
Your neighbors who are mourning
the ones that wish to die,
the ones who lost their families
and the ones who wake to cry.
You think your problems matter
and perhaps it's true they do,
but surely I'd feed the homeless
before I'd give my bread to you.
For that you'll call me selfish
spoiled and a brat,
but that's not true at all
its more that I give back.
So take your high class job
your kids, your car, your wife
and I'll take my loving heart
and help the lost find life.
I wont lie I'm not a saint
I sin more then I speak,
but if there's anything I know
it's to feed the starved and weak.
For when I die I'm sure
I'll end up in some hell
but I wont be alone,
I'll have you to make my trail.
You see I might lost
and I bet that you are too,
but alive you served yourself
and dead you'll serve me too.