Voices slowly whispering songs of today
Mixed with feelings of yesteryear
Short beats mixed with soulful melodies
Which are listened to by aliens whom are able to hear
The chorus of the indigenous and slave
Beaten faces, tethered eyes
That are transfixed on the horizon
The Son is rising from a slumber spoken of millenniums ago
Hands raised towards the heavens
Sky a glow
Voices of the angels
This the greatest show, which has ever been witnessed
By the religious who have lifted their eyes to meet God
In a fog in a haze
In this story we turn the page
To see that chains still bind us
They're here to remind us
That transfixed stares will inevitably lead to blindness
If one never truly times the coming of Lord...
(Don't lose sight of the dream)
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