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10 The Times They Are a-Endin'

FATHER DIVINE-R.F.I on April 26, 2011 20:28

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I’d like to thank you
For selling me at cost
Someday you’ll realize just what you have lost
You saw the rising river and named your price
By the way, thanks for all the band advise

Your squandering your final dance
You play your petty little games of chance
You hold dominion over all the sows
With your hollow vows,
To your sacred cows.

It disappoints me to see you with your crown in hock
Still you have the nerve to point out all the things I’m not
In a war of words a river of threats you’ll spill
You speak the language but you don’t have the will

Unto each age a destroyer is born who claims to have had an audience with you

What plastic hell is this you have made,
Pointless and revolving?
If there is no reason for any of this
what’s the point in evolving?

Ocean song
Call me home over tides of woe
And give voice to reason,
Anywhere that the four winds blow
And pull tight the flags to many have died defending
And sing unto the tyrants that the times they are a-ending.


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