Woorden: Hot Water Music. God Deciding.

Transgressions are made while cowards convey with a demon's ear, fixed and set to slay. While the statue awaits to be whittled away with a mock of a slogan hiding filth with fear. Never to learn, only to burn...and be burned. Branded straight through slate. Clear as common day. What shall be the mark to be made? When we crush it all to burn it down without sight, without sound. Not anything but a casualty forgotten in the ground. A simple shell, that's solemn still--without sight, without sound. Go slowly cause at the moment things you'd never think you'd ever see are happening and you can't believe the hatred. Make a martyr, a pedestal with ribbons of slaughter. Feed the altar, stoke the fire it will take over. Ignore the cut... the skin with callus as well as interest. If all are reckless none is to profit, none is to win it. So who will pay for all the tears, all the lives, from either side? All the years, all the time of living blind playing "God Deciding?" And who will walk away from the rage and revenge? Inhumane consequence comes in time playing "God Deciding." And who will fall in line to arrive out of sight and out of mind?