Our Design
By Stock
I throw myself at your mercy,
For I have made a dirty grave,
I find myself telling stories,
Upon the weak an the depraved,
For failing fingers, that where not,
Meant to lead a generation….
So, send in the clowns,
To destroy an empowered nation.
Like broken toys, we are pieces,
Controlled by the maker of our design,
Some of us are noble,
Others go forth to seek and define,
What it is we are here for,
Surly it’s more than, just to look pretty,
We all took hands and made plans,
Lit fires to signal, a re-birth of our city.
So when you’re falling into your grave,
Remember the signal fires,
The way the humans stayed together,
Like the burning heart of our design.
I throw myself at your mercy,
I ask you once again,
You killed a nation of people,
Still you're to cold, to shoulder the blame.