1. |
The Last Stronghold
02:54
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Jubilant fighters fire weapons in the air
the bombastic autocrat lies dead on the stairs
as car horns punctuate like flares
rising over Tripoli
Amidst fears of fragmentation
amidst brutality came retaliation
fighting fiercely for the freedom of a nation
they are rising over Tripoli
rising over Tripoli
But ten men stand aligned
their arms crossed
as ten bodies are removed
from a school bus
their souls now
will float up with the dust
rising over Tripoli
rising over Tripoli
wo-oh
But ten men stand aligned
their arms crossed
as ten bodies are removed
from a school bus
their souls now
will float up with the dust
rising over Tripoli
rising over Tripoli
rising over Tripoli
rising over Tripoli
wo-oh
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2. |
I Am A Man
02:40
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People on the streets
holding signs stomping feet
raise their voices repeat
gospel verses and curses
As a stone faced man
with a club in his hand
finds excuses to hand out
bigoted bruises
Without fear
we will rise
we will cheer
we will cry out
Wooo I am a man
Wooo
Are a mothers dreams
no longer her daughters?
when sirens scream
will we run for cover?
or open our hearts
and bleed for each other
bleed for each other
bleed for each other
bleed for each other
Wooo I am a man
Wooo
Put on their black gloves
they put on their black gloves
Without fear
we will rise
we will cheer
we will cry out
Wooo I am a man
I am a man
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3. |
Lies Of The Times
02:25
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Where is the riot?
where is the passion?
and have we sold off all our voices
and sold off all our actions
where is the heart?
where is compassion?
and have we finally realized
that we're nauseated by
these prepacked
Lies of the times
like land mines
planted in the streets
where our children run around with bare feet
the message
is consumed like a fascist feast
and it plays on and on
on and on repeat
plays on and on
on and on repeat
Where are the teachers?
where are the lessons?
and why is women's studies
only studied at the mansions
where are the voices?
where are the thoughts?
and have we finally realized
that we're nauseated by
Lies of the times
like land mines
planted in the streets
where our children run around with bare feet
the message
is consumed like a fascist feast
and it plays on and on
on and on repeat
plays on and on
on and on repeat
Lies of the times
like land mines
planted in the streets
where our children run around with bare feet
the message
is consumed like a fascist feast
and it plays on and on
on and on repeat
plays on and on
on and on repeat
plays on and on
on and on repeat
plays on and on
on and on repeat
|
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4. |
Scars
04:30
|
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A picture hangs in the hallway
of my mother on her wedding day
her french tipped fingers
hug and hold my arms
my hands rest reverently within the frame
and momma has her cheek against me head
as if everything will be okay
But I can still taste the wire
like my sister remembers the rain
I wear scars for you to see
scars on my sleeve
this my truth
my fears
my body
who I am
what I believe
I'm not a victim
but a man who learned to bleed
Scars for you to see
scars on my sleeve
this my truth
my fears
my body
who I am
And I remember your face
your face and your tears
oh and how he used to sweat
on those cold winter nights
as his hands would place braces and shake
he claimed it was caused by the anti-depressants
and this silver-lined guilt that rakes my voice
and chokes the sound
is because we never fucking talked about it
But I know I still taste the wire
like my sister remembers the rain
I wear scars for you to see
scars on my sleeve
this my truth
my fears
my body
who I am
what I believe
I'm not a victim
but a man who learned to bleed
Scars for you to see
scars on my sleeve
this my truth
my fears
my body
who I am
I'm a man not a victim
I wear my scars for you to see
scars on my sleeve
this my truth
my fears
my body
who I am
what I believe
I'm not a victim
but a man who learned to bleed
Scars for you to see
scars on my sleeve
this my truth
my fears
my body
who I am
I'm a man not a victim
a man not a victim
a man not a victim
a man not a victim
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