Gone Jackals We Want Our Brothers Back
Too many believe in some "master plan" 'cause it's hard to accept what's not shapen by hand. But here, under the sun, where events can't be undone; once superstition's spent - You gotta know, we want our brothers back. The hurt came down from the clear blue sky. The sands of time went rushing by. It came as a shock, we'd shut our eyes. Is this all that's left, just a slow good-bye? The curators frown and they wax abstract. But, man, if you've found love what could matter more than that? It's a crime and a shame (selfish and vain) to try to justify this pain. I guess they'll think what they will - But before the dawn they'll want their brothers back.
