St. Martin’s Summer: The Final Cut

In the air a strange feeling lingers
It cries out, quick and silent
Danger – death’s closest friend

All eyes on you
But no one truly sees
When it comes down to a button
And a man full of fear

Senseless hatred, captured in the toys of men
The inherited policy which convinces misinformed children
That power is pain
And pain the only weapon

All with the power to see all
But understand so little
The power to use words to cover us – to hide

Suddenly,
burning like the lost love of a hardened heart
Lost in words none will ever hear
The final cut

And like a sun projecting no light, emitting no heat
A lonely eye looks down on it’s creation

Day by day, year by year
Lonely tears fall on battered Earth.