crawford

seems like the world just sings the same old tunes
while love has died for reasons yet unknown
everywhere the sages read their runes
while childern die of hunger all alone

why do i sit here doing no one good
waiting for a call to save my comfort
why is it i do nothing when i could
be out there helping those with no resort

the world is tyranized by greed and power
religions face has turned to satens bed
the ruin of man is marching every hour
to the beat of crawford texas' head

while chidren die of hunger every second
war tilts it's awful power in all directions