Come near me, hear me, take a little time to stare me in the eyes, and realise this current state of hate wont wait for the change from another life. So lift your hands and understand this land though dry just needs your tears and cries, when every back that is broken has spoken, the angel awoken, bring kings of another time. Backbeat the word is on the street, that the fire in our hearts are out,but battered and bruised people never choose to shout out unless their own lives feel the blues. Who's shoes do you wear when you stare, with your diplomatic airs, cos I don't care for statements, things won't ease with a press release. And the man on the street can't eat the pretense.

Fence me in but don't begin to deny - that as time slips by you grow a little tired of the same old issues, longer food queues the way you live a poor and lonely life. An eye for an eye. but what if the enemy's blind and has no heart or mind, you gotta fight with your head instead, forget your reddenned past you left behind.

no matter what result the cult will quote the vote is soaked in years of tears streaming out the eyes of a people trying to rise just to realise they're dreaming of freedom if even the price is to high to justify the next child that dies, next prison cell cries, the way to stop or start the very motherland's heart,but you can be a part and face the fear in your eyes... its time to rise.