a song for all the lost souls...
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Verse 1:
I never did know you
And now you are gone
Black powder consciousness
Is the ending of your song
Were you a victim?
Or just sadly mislead?
Who were you really, Kurt,
Alone there in your head?
Verse 2:
All of the spin priests
Want us to chant your name
And bow and pay them
To play their gilted game
While they create an new idol
You get all the blame
For being unable to accept
Your frailty
As the price of your fame
Verse 3:
You've been charged with wanting
To "join that Stupid Club"
But the truth is more chilling
And there is the rub:
For all the spin that
they put on your life
You were just a sad man
Balanced on the edge of a knife
Verse 4:
For all the denials
And all the half-lies
Your death is still with us
Maybe to open our eyes
To all the hopeless souls
and their tormented cries
To lift our empty ideals to a Truth
Finally realized
Verse 5:
No, Kurt, I didn't know you
But I do know your pain
I've stood in the Darkness
And died in the rain
You were used and used up
It's all too plain:
Sweet suicide isn't sweet
It's made--- Pain by Pain
Spoken word:
Dare we call it murder
In the house of the Money Tree?
Are we not all guilty,
of ignoring your plea?
Dare We call it murder
Written in you sorrow?
Are we going to turn away
and forget about you, tomorrow
I want you to think about it
I said think about it...
Sweet suicide isn't sweet
It's made---
Pain by Pain----
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©1995, 2014 jh crook
