Bad Religion - Tiny Voices

the brown and orange sky hold its breath as the sun retreats to the distatn horizon
and our hearts palpitate anxiously as we soon lay supine
and wait for sleep to overcome us

and from somewhere in our black subconscious minds when we're asleep
comes a haunting swelling mass of voices
resonating
it's screams of forgotten victims and the cries of innocence
and the desperate plea for recognition and recompense

tiny voices
echoes of our heritage
our long ago
swallow faces turn the other way
tiny voices
harbored deep within as we outwardly deny
that they have something to say
and if we don't confront them they will never go away

the billions of tiny pinhole embers fade into a morning sky with poignant morose wonder
waking we bear a cosmetic peace that verifies the turmoil which we carry deep inside

and from somewhere in our black subconscious minds when we're asleep
comes a haunting swelling mass of voices
resonating
it's screams of forgotten victims and the cries of innocence
and the desperate plea for recognition and recompense

tiny voices
echoes of our heritage
our long ago
swallow faces turn the other way
tiny voices
harbored deep within as we outwardly deny
that they have something to say
and if we don't confront them they will never go away