|
When our rivers run dry and our crops cease to grow |
|
And when our summer grow longer and winters won't snow |
|
From the banks of the ocean and the ice in the hills |
|
To the fight in the desert where progress stands still |
|
When we've lost our will |
|
That's how we'll know, this is not a test, oh no |
|
This is cardiac arrest of a world too proud to admit our mistakes |
|
We're crashing into the ground as we all fall from grace |
|
When the air that we breathe becomes air that we choke |
|
When the marsh fever spreads from the swamps to our homes |
|
When your home on the range has been torn down and paved |
|
The buffalo roam to a slaughterhouse grave |
|
What more will it take? |
|
For us to know this is not a test, oh no |
|
This is cardiac arrest of a world too proud to admit our mistakes |
|
Kissing the ground as we all fall from grace |
|
This is a chance to set things straight |
|
To bend or break the rules back into place |
|
There is no middle ground, no compromise |
|
We've drawn the line |
|
With perfect aim, we stand back and throw |
|
Glass windows break and it's all about to blow |
|
Lights go out as we pass the torch again |
|
In hope that is stays lit, oh |
|
Neutrality means that you don't really care' |
|
Cause the struggle goes on even when you're not there |
|
Blind and unaware |
|
That's how we'll know, this is not a test, oh no |
|
This is cardiac arrest of a world too proud to admit our mistakes |
|
We're crashing into the ground as we all |
|
Yeah, we all, all fall from grace |