The People are Still Crying

ELENA
There's something eating at me from the inside out
There's so much anger in me that I want to shout
I don't want to live my life oppressed by fear and doubt
Won't somebody tell me what this is all about


I wake up every morning and I make my bed
The pillow's still indented where I lay my head
I should be having breakfast, but I'll eat my words instead
Living in a lie is like a skin that can't be shed


A friend of mine was murdered, she was twelve years old
I'm not about to let her memory get cold
So I keep her clinic open, but the truth be told
I can only keep it open with the soul I've sold


And the people are still crying, the people are still dying
And the truth is kept in silence by the politicians' lying
Not allowed to raise my voice, not allowed to make a noise
But I won't let anyone succeed in taking 'way the choice


Now, my father's like a zombie under brain-control
Doesn't think what he is doing he just plays his role
Stop me if you think I'm being cynical
But why's the bastard winning when disaster is his goal?


And the people are still crying, the people are still dying
And there isn't any way to stop it 'til the biggest fish are frying
But I shouldn't be complaining, I should be in zombie-training
Learning not to worry about the rights my government is draining


There's no one in my life with whom I feel I can connect
Everyone is scared of being politically incorrect
Speaking your mind wasn't a crime the last time that I checked
Freedom of speech, freedom of speech, you owe me that respect


But the people are still crying, the people are still dying
Taking that mother-fucker down would be so satisfying
But I stay right in my place, put on my smiling face
And wait until the day when I feel destiny's embrace


Believe me, you'll see me, my fleet feet will run free
I don't want your money, you unfeeling gun-freak
I'm done being some dumb-bum slumbering peasant
Self-obsessed, like the rest of the U.S. at present
No, my life is too precious to let you go and mess up
And it's best that I fess up that I've always guessed
That your pestering lessons would shed luminescense
On the essence of your ultra-senseless intentions
The stress that you press with your incessant questions
Your endless confessions of selfless endeavors
Have incensed my defenses and so I will end this
So, take your best shot 'cause the more that you bleed me
The more, in the end, you are going to see me!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Words and music by:
David Patrick Ford

Vocals:
ELENA  David Patrick Ford
(Vocal Transformer used)