Fiction
Inhale exhaleBefore the slaughter time stood still
A man looked down from the top of a hill... from the top of a hill
He said: I hold two sticks, one is much shorter, which one belongs to me?
Facing the world when you're down and out
And you've lost your will to seek understanding
And your family has disappeared
And what you see is what you know
There was a day when the sun cut through the clouds
No voices were raised and no hands were bound... no hands were bound
He said: I hold two sticks, one is much shorter, which one belongs to me?
Facing the world when you're down and out
And you've lost your will to seek understanding
And your family has disappeared
And what you see is what you know
If this feels real then think again
This could be fact, it could be fiction
If this feels real then think again
This could be fact, this could be fiction
He said: I hold two sticks, one is much shorter, which one belongs to me?
Facing the world when you're down and out
And you've lost your will to seek understanding
And your family has disappeared
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