It is midnight and it is cold
and there's nobody standing on the unfinished road
The air is heavy, the bells have tolled
Oh how could we have let this horror unfold?
The streets are weeping, there are tears of blood
For all the men and women, who were swept in the flood.
They were merely trying to rebuild the world,
Trying to keep the Jolly Roger from being unfurled
There were a few men, better than the others
Who rose, stepping on the corpses of their brothers
They corrupted souls, they grew black flowers,
They watch the fire spread from their tall, dark towers.
We are in Eden again, we see the serpent come close
It flows down from the Tree, a fruit, it shows
We know the story, and yet we chose
To give in and give up, and then we never arose
The good far outweighed the bad
But power and lust made the people go mad,
We fought for gold, we fought for land,
Did we take that with us, under the sand?
It is midnight and it is cold
and there's nobody standing on the unfinished road
They are sleeping, buried under the load
May there be peace in their final abode.
What if you got something that wasn't meant for you? Do you return it to its rightful owner or do you keep it because you want it so badly? I kept it. And the rest is history.
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