world, one voice One touch truly, truly say it Some people realize Some people see it From the beginning One world one touch One voice one life One touch, one voice
on the main The driver was approachin' The American zone The wavin' of hands The tiniest train They never dreamed They'd never wake again Voice of the
it burns I cried my love, - I sacrifice my joy! Cast out as my father, - bounded in Hell! Then come a sweet voice, with words of relief A dark glowing
son she had last night is buried under her They say that the war is done Where are you now, my son? An old man with unsteady gait and beard of ancient
page Of innocent and helpless little babies Offerings to the spirit of the age Now every age has heard it, the voice that speaks from Hell "Sacrifice your children
got this hour Blessed is the voice that speaks truth to power Blessed is the sex worker's body sold tonight She works for what she's got to save her children
are children raised in sorrow, on a scorched and barren plain There are children raised beneath the golden sun There are children of the water, children
way to your heart and to your METAL MIND. Lost in oblivion and baptized in fear, poisioned by lives all beliefs. But their ancient voice awakening their
veil of malicious death A story told of suffering, blood and pain Screaming of hate the demons now descend Smell of dying flowers Enchanted voices
hear voices they are calling I have reason to pay heed I caress you, oh, Cape Breton in my dreams And you kept your arms wide open To let your children
woke up on a gaelic morn The kindred soul within reborn Voices call as the high wind blow Softly speak within me so Voices call within your mind Voices
are children raised in sorrow on a scorched and barren plain there are children raised beneath the golden sun There are children of the water, children
look so fake ? Preaching the evil, providing death Oh my sons, are you awake How come your world is ruled by hate, Unholy children in madness state
heart pushed in As all around the children play The games they tired of yesterday, they play I stand and hear my voice cry out A wordless scream at ancient
quiet side And we laugh like soft, mad children Smug in the woolly cotton brains of infancy The music and voices are all around us Choose they croon the ancient
quiet side And we laugh like soft, mad children Smug in the woolly cotton brains of infancy The music and voices are all around us Choose they croon the Ancient
would stand the children of Atlantis! And yet disturbingly, another voice, a wholly darker and more malevolent presence, can be perceived lurking within the ancient
newborn children Stained not with blood of Christ To ancient decorum humanity slaves Mankinds witness the end of their race Winds claim their season and seas their domain Reason's voice
