Weapons
Carl Minnemann / John Almeida
a week , in time,
can float away,
go through,
my mind,
cast astray,
clasp closing pain on you,
either way,
I know I don´t know you,
truthfully
pollute
and stain
deface the world
sublime
the hue
that clowds you..
saved
our weapons laid on the ground
wait
the truth will produce no sound
accused lie on the grave
made of stone
strange trace
of lost embrace
left a tone
on you
a change
became a crown
ensued
by love
it held you
saved
our weapons laid on the ground
wait
the truth will produce no sound
you wait in
and kneelin´
ten fold sin
stray in the water
try and hold you down
end this truth
all the chains in walls
so peacefull
you want it
saved
our weapons laid on the ground
wait
the truth will produce no sound
changed
our weapons laid on the ground
wait
the truth will produce no sound
saved
changed
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