Dirty Hands

Claws fray this world to the edge
We hang loose on one little ledge
Held up by dirty hands from war
Loved by creatures who'd kill to see us soar

Skies push the ground further to our feet
The grass may be green but not so sweet
Dirt pulls the clouds to our head
Every person beneath our toes will remain dead

We move on, scraping our tongues to change taste
The way we climb is not pain to our knees, but waste
We breathe, we love but we always end up out for the kill
Mind games are our basic concepts, making our philosophy ill

Our mothers taught us to grow up stronger than the last
Our fathers shook their heads and said we live too fast
Our friends will believe in us, but we'll all end in doubt
Our minds control our actions, for poor judgment is what this world is all about