Tell you a thing that you ought to know, two minutes of your time, then on you go. Tell tale of the man, all dressed in black, that most of them not coming back, sent off to war to play little games. Upon their return, can't name no names, some strange yellow gas has played with their minds, has reddened their eyes, removed all the lies. As strange as it sounds, death knows no bounds, how many get well, only time will tell. Only time will tell. Only time will tell. Only time will tell. You lied to death and me, What did you bring to the table? Brother's only holy sin, utter trust is a deadly thing. To the prayer of holy peace, we didn't know what was lying underneath. So how could we be such fools, at the thing that we thought should be answered? I can't begin to understand it all, the lies. But I am a dead man, I can see it in your eyes. Just as clear as all the sweat upon your brow. It really makes sense, I can see it clearly now. Tangled up in a web of lies, could have been a way to confide. Unaware of the consequence, not aware of the secrets that you kept. Nothing that we can't believe, to reveal the facade and face the men. Not a thing that we could foresee, not a sign that would ever be outcome. You had us all strung out with promises of peace. But I don't lie down, cause I plan what to deceive. Cut it up to rights now, only time will tell. Your prophecy squirts in the sundown on its way. But to all our common sense, ought to pick up on a piece. You can't forget what all of them, a little chance at least. Take the world to a better place, give a man or just a little hope. Just aim for a legacy, here and now, or leave. You can't forget what all of them, a little chance at a better place. Take the world to a better place, give a man or just a little hope. Just aim for a legacy, here and now, or leave. We seem destined to live in fear. And someday we'll see how the candle is lit. But when it's all gone, will this hope be a fear? We'll set out this joint. We can't reach it out to the land. We all expect how to shake their hands. But anger and loathing is right. And here's where all signs is becoming a way of life. We live in a western world. Here understanding and ignorance is leading to death. Only the cogs that are left for vultures and prey are the chairs. For some of this blood was in peace. And all around is death and misery. Behold the things that they know. But one will follow his gene. One of the newest of the thing. The blood is teetering like a brick. But to the things that they care. To the things that they care. The blood is teetering like a brick. But to the things that they care. The blood is teetering like a brick. But to the things that they care. The blood is teetering like a brick. But to the things that they care. But to the things that they care. The blood is teetering like a brick. But to the things that they care. But to the things that they care. But to the things that they care.