Too many believe

in some 'master plan'

'cause it's hard to accept

what's not shapen by hand.



But here, under the sun,

where events can't be undone;

once superstition's spent -

You gotta know,

we want our brothers back.



The hurt came down

from the clear blue sky.

The sands of time

went rushing by.



It came as a shock,

we'd shut our eyes.

Is this all that's left,

just a slow good-bye?



The curators frown

and they wax abstract.

But, man, if you've found love

what could matter more than that?



It's a crime and a shame (selfish and vain)

to try to justify this pain.

I guess they'll think what they will -

But before the dawn

they'll want their brothers back.


more