The Road Is Lost (feat. Tim Freedman)

CHORUS
Can you picture a little boy, dragging wood down the lane? 
Grandma waiting for him brother, playing outside in the 
rain Each day we hear the score, before not after shots of 
war And the road to him is love, but the love is never more
VERSE 1
Wishing it all to end enraged by the slaughtering thoughts 
explode like my heads a grenade and I drawed the pin 
talking to men with one choice to run off or defend must 
punish to win, gotta let that gun off for ya kin the only 
laws is 'no laws at all' once it begins from the smell of 
blood violence is absorbed into the skin and the thoughts 
of kids caught up should torture people to death now 
freedoms with them see if they morph and see any sense
CHORUS
Can you picture a little boy, dragging wood down the lane? 
Grandma waiting for him brother, playing outside in the 
rain Each day we hear the score, before not after shots of 
war And the road to him is love, but the love is never more

VERSE 2
Not all true pictures of war are drawn in the news so we 
painted a little more like George Gittoes do jaded because 
we didn't hear them calls coming through how we'd savor our
 days if we had to walk in them shoes countries can't build
 without support for the youth they lost when their most 
important resources abused forming our views, and not 
picking up on the cues inner-city blues stop many from 
listening to the clues voices on mute, so we whisper this 
to you no time for school, many children be enlisted to be 
troops and we walk , thinking that the system got us 
screwed like we taught ,just to keep a short distance from 
the truth when scores…are born only to be drifting to a 
noose when they gone well be saying , lord forgive we never
 knew gotta question why many, got there scriptures 
misconstrued and why spending on weapons and not assistance

 is the rule,

CHORUS
Can you picture a little boy, dragging wood down the lane? 
Grandma waiting for him brother, playing outside in the 
rain Each day we hear the score, before not after shots of 
war And the road to him is love, but the love is never more

OUTRO
We're caught up in the pictures that they have shown us and
 not the millions of innocents that been blown up cold 
hearts disconnecting us from our own blood for their 
objectives its best that they blindfold us
Can you picture a little boy, dragging wood down the lane? 
Grandma waiting for him brother, playing outside in the 
rain

We're caught up in the pictures that they have shown us and
 not the millions of innocents that been blown up cold 
hearts disconnecting us from our own blood