To hear the song of America, her pulse, her beat,
all the years, all the lives, scream a maddening chant.
To hear the song of America, her pulse,
her beat, all the years, all the lives,
scream a maddening chant.
It’s all about opinions you see, who is
right, who is wrong, the war rages on.
Wise old men, stories of dreams,
loves, wars past, all spin a romantic yarn.
Angry young men burn with fire,
quenched in rage.
Opinions cloistered in shared flame.
We all have opinions, but most are
based on fear.
For the ones who see, opinions on
freedom of life and love, seem a
better way to be.
All hail, Mother of us all!
Alive! i scream with a shaman’s chant.
Alive! i scream with a voice of
torment and joy.
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