Change

Its not a localized problem

its nothing a computer can save

If you talk to the dead

they’ll say you’re caught in a web

We don’t need any more days of rage

What if we were all just puppets?

playing a child’s game

You’ll see in the end

We once had been friends and

we all see the same beautiful day

We all are the children of heaven

Playing that childish game

As each lifetime pretends

Each day from morning till sun’s end

Each one a ticket for change