The Legacy

Tell you a thing

That you ought to know

Two minutes of your time

Then on you go

Tell tale of the men

All dressed in black

That most of them

Not coming back

Sent off to war

To play little games

And on their return

Can't name no names

Some strange yellow gas

Has played with their minds

Has reddened their eyes

Removed all the lies

And strange as it souns

Death knows no bounds

How many get well?

Only time will tell

Only time will tell

You lie in your death bed now

But what did you bring to the table?

Brought us only holy sin

Utter trust is a deadly thing

To the prayer of holy peace

We didn't know what was lying underneath

So how could we be such fools

And to think we tought you the answer

I can't begin to understand in all the lies

But on your death bed I can see it in your eyes

Just as clear as all the sweat upon your brow

It really makes sense I can see it clearly now

Tangled up in a web of lies

Could have been away to prophesise

Unaware of the consequence

Not aware of the secrets that you kept

Nothing that we could believe

To reveal the facade of faceless men

Not a thing that we could foresee

Not a sign that would tell us the outcome

You had us all strung out with

Promises of peace

But all along your cover plan was to deceive

Can it put to rights now? Only time will tell

Your prophecies will send us all to hell as well

Left to all our golden sons

All to pick up on the peace

You could have given all of them

A little chance at least

Take the world to a better place

Given them all just a little hope

Just think what a legacy

You know will leave

We seem destined to live in fear

And some that would say armageddon is near

But while there's a life or there's hope

That man won't self destruct

Why can't we treat our fellow men

With more respect and a shake of their hands

But anger and loathing is rife

The death on all side is

Becoming a way of life

We live in a uncertain world

Fear understanding and ignorance

Is leading to death

Only the corpses are left

For voltures that pray on their bones

But some are just not wanting peace

Their whole life is death and misery

The only thing that they know

Fight fire with fire, life is cheap

But if they do stop to think

That man is teetering right on the brink

But do you think that they care?

They benefit from death and pain and despair