A brief poetic statement about the nature of man at war with others and one's own self. The lost vision of the American Dream and the illusions of beauty.
Dead boy, take him alone to the foreign infernos.
Take him by the end through the
desert; his eyes blinded by rifting sands
Grab his hand and place a melting black
weapon into his palms.
Dead girl, take her alone to the illusion.
Take her to the lowest and tell her
beauty is attainable
Grab her and raise her hand to her
head; shield her from the sun.
Dead America, take us to that promised land.
The ones that we were promised so long
ago; tell us we're still free.
Prisoners without chains; bound by imaginary
promises. Are the dreams still real?
Dead boy, dead girl take your hands together.
Let down your weapons; call your illusions
false; break free from imaginary bondage.
Tell them all the truth.