Into the eye, eye of the hurricane Black clouds are rushing in The storm is ready to strike The lightening flashes through the wasteland Caught between
every morning on the evening news I hear the same ol' story someone singing the blues disaster striking out and you're not ready California quakes and
It doesn't really matter to the kid any more No it doesn't really matter at all It doesn't really matter to the kid any more No it doesn't, doesn't, doesn
She worked so hard for Hollywood Papers signed at immigration Left her country and home for good Last destination *Tonight I will fly This night I will
...your castles are burning... So you're the king of the action You want to have it all But I say your headed for a fall You're like a man on a mission
Living in the city where the poverty prevails Sleeping on the side walk you can hear the sirens wail Dining with the rats down on 42nd street Begging
11:59 and it's all going well, the next second could be our last This is the moment we've all waited for, to see if the world's gonna' pass The seer
Father forgive them, they know not what they do Dancing with the devil, gonna walk all over you Turn your back to reason, sanding on your pride For everything
This is our weekend, just me and my car Suited up for Saturday, to cruise the boulevard I'm riding out on a street full of strangers Looking at them look
Every night I have the same ol' dream, An angel standing in the sun over me I see you walking on a sea of glass, Holding up your love at last In falling
It was 8:45 New York time when disaster filled the sky Death struck and the towers rocked, then we began to die All the steel came crashing down and
I'm watching you at home from my prison cell alone Trapped here inside my visual prison Deadly stare into the monitor screen Mesmerized by the latest
In the papers I read how they found her On her face was the look of death In this house from hell In the papers I read how they had found her On
[Instrumental]
You've got ashes on the tip of your finger You've got secrets in the back of your mind You've been searching for the meaning of evil 'Cause you're
Standing like a statue waiting for the train In front of the cigarette vendor Slicking back his hair looking at the machine Reflecting like a mirror
In the silence of the night, can you hear the cries? Can you feel suffering? In the eyes of young America, the tears begin to fall The streets are filled
the beggar on the street, it's enough to make you weep he wants something he can shoot through his veins tearing up the place when the heart begins to