Words Words Words

Viral shame, a nation in chains Futile strife and this is the rest of our lives Cracked blinds, the threat is outside Lit fuse, manipulated and abused Is there a way we can know peace with armed occupants in our streets? A farm for fear, taste the air But I'm not powerless or weak There's nothing sacred here in this moral no man's land And I don't accept these terms because they're not true They're just words Spell crazed, new leaders to praise Hidden hand, and thoughtless golems made of sand