To the thoughts of the many from the minds of the few Voice of reason, censored view The truth is the News and the News is the truth As if that`ll do as a lame excuse for Killing the slavers, taking the slaves Burying the dead, then robbing the graves Stealing the modesty from heroes brave Making the tears gush like waves
Ch: Deadeye watches, still the killing carries on To the rhythm of the gunfire and the voices of concern Deadeye claims to be some conscience for us all But I was never born to be some fly upon the wall
Window dressing and the tinsel wreath Stealing the pity and the widow`s grief Sentimental with a furrowed brow Pinning the heart on the blooded sleeve
Ch: Deadeye watches, still the killing carries on . . .
And yes I`ve crouched beneath the glow - dazzled by it all But this is not the world I know or people I recall. To the thoughts of the many from the minds of the few: Voice of reason, censored view A little knowledge is a dangerous thing Here is the butterfly, here`s the wing
Ch: Deadeye watches, still the killing carries on . . .
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