War's boots heard like thunder on the pavement.
The sun has crept beneath the trees.
Peace barricades itself in the basement
As the world is placed on it's knees.
Somewhere a town is sleeping;
Somewhere a city is ransacked.
Death walks alone in the night.
Winking at those who appease,
Her sense of intellect and complexity,
Looking for a mind to seize.
The streets are swept and kept clean.
The hills are set ablaze.
Somewhere Bliss is quietly sleeping.
Dreaming of the day it comes back.
The technicolor dreams change to greyscale,
The red changes into a black.
Slowly, the world, it's sinking.
Slowly, Morale's up to bat.
War boots are heard like thunder on the pavement.
The sun has now turned its back.
Peace sips tea with Death and asks,
When will Bliss ever come back?
The technicolor hills turn to ash,
Morale strikes out without the proper placement.
