23500
2
　
heads are slowly coming together
mark the one willing to explore
it may be the cult of personality
stirring up its gravity
but who am I to say
with blind leaders of hate
some call it their fate
yet we have a reason to believe
a right to be set free
　
lines are being formed in the sand
when will we ever live to understand
machines are running the battered system
the sign of the end is near
let me make things clear
faces in the window having storms in the night
a briddle tongue will be filled with remorse
　
the band still plays on
until the bitter end of the song
can't we all just get along
　
