Dead Years: The Politics Of Paranoia

Insane prophets praise our gun
Six thousand daze alone we see
Somewhere beyond the last dawn
Lies immortality

Mute counsel shows us their way
Tomorrow hid things to come
Forced march thro halls of time
Reserving seats there for some

Trying to make some sense don't appease their disease

I have done nothing for years
Dreaming for thousands of years
Hid amongst the trash and debris
Hid behind a veil of tears

Sleep tonight and dream of life
Not of death nor hate nor pain and strife
When this world has run its course
Out to a sunset on a white horse

Bloated psychopathic minds
Social disposal desert ocean
Slowly this world unwinds
Seeking the praise of no one

I sense the winds of madness
Infection beyond my door
Brooding the choices i've made
I'm inside forever more