Come with me child and take my hand
I will show you my strange land
Where nothing in quite what it seems
Here within the land of dreams
The people are free but their faces stitched
Eyes that don't see and brains that are ditched
The flowers are pretty and smell real sweet
But the odor and fumes in your nose they eat
The houses are slanted and held up by lies
The rivers are filled with pain and heartfelt cries
The animals are angry and eat our young
But we destroyed their homes what'd done is done
This land is not magic not made of hope
This land is your hookers, thieves, and dope
This is the land of your own making
From the dreams and the lives of the people your taking
This is your twilight.
Robert Fox ♥
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