He is the writer of a new and better way.
Reality has come to hold our dreams at bay.
Discordant melodies of hatred and of spite,
Are cast into the winds that no one can deny.
The hopes are rising as he spreads his mighty wings.
He promises the end of torment and of grief.
A thousand myriad colors rise to tint the sky;
His message conjuring the dread of wasted life.
Oh, we’ve got to live together,
Or we will all die together.
Behold the warriors that sway the rising tide.
Behold their handiwork, a source of rising pride.
No mercy granted and no stone shall go unturned.
Submit this nation to the judgment that it’s earned.
The broken bodies are a testament to pride.
In burning cities the flames may touch the sky.
The king is crying. The nation has been slain.
Reality has brought us torment and the pain.
His hand does tremble as he stares in disbelief.
A world has shattered into fragments of his grief.
A thousand myriad colors change to shades of gray.
The instigator shakes his head and turns away.
Oh, we’ve got to live together,
Or we will all die together.
(1989)
Lyrics: Wicasta Lovelace
Music: Wicasta Lovelace
