God and all angels sing the world to sleep
For the end of the world is man made
With the blue tongue of greed, control
The Moon burns in the mind of history
Where war and politics are the domain of the corrupt
Staring, at midnight, into the Angel of Death
A catastrophic power play of midget nations
Yet life is itself, the fulfillment of petty desires
Money, the pillow of the head in the dark
Power, the bent over guitar of the green day
Organics thick-lipped, riot and rebel
For a new world that cannot be born
Till the old world dies of its own inflation
God and all angels sing the world to sleep
That we might die, for others to take our place.
Art Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/D-R-E-A-M-S-398472986
Wuji Seshat 