consider these minutes golden And maybe they'll admit it when we're gone Just let our spirits live on, through our lyrics that you hear in our songs and
Joey stopped praying. It is all the same thing. We are all the same people. With sinning hearts that make us equal. Here is my hand, not words said desperately. It is not our
it?s state of desperation For Your glory This is an emergency! Sinner, reach out your hands! Children in Christ you stand! Sinner, reach out your hands
obligated to give us life. If we fall for our rights, we be in hell tonight. Mere sinners own nothing but a fierce hand. We never loved him we pushed away his pierced hands
: Inside the doors are sealed to love, Inside my heart is sleeping Inside the fingers of my glove, Inside the bones of my right hand Inside it's colder
night across an endless desert We had no moon to light our way And though a million stars were slowly turning We lacked the consciences to pray Our
believe in the divine Grand Canyon, source of all our dreams Protected from a billion years of evil Golden fire - thunder all around Covenants will cover up you sinners
Preachin' 'bout the promised land He tells me to believe in Jesus And steals the money from my hand Some say he was a good man But Lord I think he sinned
on the TV Preachin' 'bout the promise lands He tells me believe in Jesus Steals the money from my hands Some say he was a good man Lord I think he sinned
is our call for safety, can you hear our cry for help. A victim of every pain you felt can find a cause from somewhere else. Our coins can pay for the
wrong hands our scaffold is destroyed Children killing children because our government has ignored I sling my arrows to shatter your walls No more creating victims from
the wrong hands our scaffold is destroyed Children killing children because our government has ignored I slingmy arrows to shatter your walls No more creating victims from
could save us (yeah) I done burned down the town and killed my neighbor (yeah) Do I, come to you with blood on my hands (yeah) or run away from the place
the clouds is open, I'm rememberin' this Your families, your backbone, your friends ain't shit Now I believe it when Rhonda was sayin', "Back in the days" When our
're entertainers of course this shit's affectin' our sales You ignoramus but music is reflection of self We just explain it and then we get our checks
guess that makes me the captain, hit the matress, pistol packin' sick assassin, bitch to gassin', get to mashin' D-12 broke up, were you bitches askin' Our