I see the culmination of a bitter state
People get disillusioned by fear and hate
Still we are wasting our blood on the wrong points
Revolutions they may rise outside our very homes
Rivers of blood may flow outside our front lawn
Still we are wasting our blood on the wrong points
I find myself standing in a culture of losing hope
Swallowed by indifference with tired eyes we see
All beauty that could have been a possibility
Still we are wasting our blood on the wrong points