The wives are talking to monsters and the husbands are paying in blood.
The skies are streaked with our poisons and the sea is awash with our mess.
And every crooked finger is pointing and even the loudest won’t confess.
We walk on the cracked ground of the future; we stumble through the smog and haze.
But we’re chasing our tails in the darkness; we are all just blind mice in a maze.
Brave souls will raise the banners and the call will go out to join, both near and far.
And we’ll promise to make it as soon as we clear out our DVR.
There won’t be a text. It won’t be on facebook. You will not see it on FOX news.
There will be a knock on your door, a rap on your window, and it’s a truth you cannot refuse.
So unlock the vault, remove the masks, and unplug your ears.
Because it’s our fault, we caused it. And all we have left is our fears.
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