The Power Of One

“My father’s land, my mother’s tongue
Misleading me so shamelessly
For many years I misbelieved
The hatred is the path for me.”

Father I have killed many angels
I think I will now walk to the sea
I hope I will someday forgive me
Please moor my empty boat on a pier

I can blame for the blue blood that runs in my veins
But I seem to forget that we are all the same...

In your own blaze of hate
You’ve spawned a fear in many lives
You’ve taken action thinking
It was all said on the signs

You cannot heal the feeling burning deep inside your spine
You now collapse, cave in revealing scabby marks of life

Mother I’ve seen too much
I hate to live my life
Forgot every word you told me
Stubborn little child

Angel of your life!

I have to find my Eden now
The gates I left behind
The pain will remain
No power to gain

Now I have time to dwell on self-awareness and dreadful crime
I saw the colors too bright not knowing that I was blind

I slayed a man who took a chance and drank the forbidden wine
The map I draw reveals that I have been complete
Machine, in team

Father I’ve seen too much
I hate to live my life
Forgot every word you told me
Stubborn little child

Angel of your life!

I have to find my Eden now
The gates I left behind
The pain will remain
No power to gain, no

Mother where’s your son?
When has this begun?
Who has been the fool?

No one was born to be a servant or a slave
Who can tell me the color of the rain?

In the world that we live in
The things said and done
They can well overrun the power of one

No one was born to be a servant or a slave
Can you tell me the color of the rain?

In the world that we live in
The things said and done
They can well overrun the power of one

To live and let die
To give hope and take life
Is that what you’re here for?

To think that you are right
To make sure it won’t fly is a making of a hate crime

In the homes of the brave
In the homes of the land slaves
We are all the same

I need to believe!
There’s more than the eye can see
All colors of the rainbow

No one was born to be a slave
Seek the past and place the blame
Tell me the color of the rain
No one was born to be a master

In the land we live, we die
Praise the oneness, praise the lie
To bind a web around the faker
We will need a true rainmaker

(No one was born to be a slave)
(Seek the past and place the blame)
(Tell me the color of the rain)
(No one was born to be a master)

(...)

“Children of Abel, children of Cain
Can live in harmony, without shame
The keys that I grant thee, the sacred land
Are dry desert sand on the palm of your hand
Without the water, the wisdom of past
Will run through your fingers, forgotten so fast
Thus now when I leave you, I’m truly blind
This blindness, this blessing, the hope of mankind.”