[Black Book]

So Much Said Without A Word

Serene & silent they sit, their identities a mystery.
They don't have to speak for us to know their history.
Posed in casual positions, though they're more than extraordinary.
They're angels that God couldn't afford to bury.
Still they make a strong impression without a touch that's physical.
Yet most would have perceived their existence as mythical.
Alas, the reason for their existence is pitiful. The supposed justice was hypocritical.
Their souls for our's? Oh, the logic. Why does the work of the world's greatest minds seem moronic?
Millions of dollars in expenses and millions of souls in profit.
But we learn from the prices paid by the innocent... Lusting for mistakes to learn from as if they were something more intimate.
So as these silent heroes sit in the remaining rubble, look and put together the pieces of the puzzle.
Fore within their imprints still lingering in this world you can grasp the struggle.
I put my hands to their bodies, they're as cold as a stone.
Some hold hands with others, some stand alone.
Some near their front steps, some nowhere close to home.
In their existence, I see the outlines of where man redrew sanity.
I see the places where the people who sought peace in this world lost humanity.
I see the shadows burned into the walls of Hiroshima, Japan.
Years after the Atom Bomb dropped and the tragedy came to land.

[Black Book]

So Much Said Without A Word

Serene & silent they sit, their identities a mystery.
They don't have to speak for us to know their history.
Posed in casual positions, though they're more than extraordinary.
They're angels that God couldn't afford to bury.
Still they make a strong impression without a touch that's physical.
Yet most would have perceived their existence as mythical.
Alas, the reason for their existence is pitiful. The supposed justice was hypocritical.
Their souls for our's? Oh, the logic. Why does the work of the world's greatest minds seem moronic?
Millions of dollars in expenses and millions of souls in profit.
But we learn from the prices paid by the innocent... Lusting for mistakes to learn from as if they were something more intimate.
So as these silent heroes sit in the remaining rubble, look and put together the pieces of the puzzle.
Fore within their imprints still lingering in this world you can grasp the struggle.
I put my hands to their bodies, they're as cold as a stone.
Some hold hands with others, some stand alone.
Some near their front steps, some nowhere close to home.
In their existence, I see the outlines of where man redrew sanity.
I see the places where the people who sought peace in this world lost humanity.
I see the shadows burned into the walls of Hiroshima, Japan.
Years after the Atom Bomb dropped and the tragedy came to land.