… my bro, my brother, orange and
green – that seems to be the colors we
bleed – where do we place our hearts now…
where do place our hearts?
… a dream, a dream, an American
dream – that seems to be a star out of
reach – are we reaching too far into the dark now…
are we reaching too far?
Suffocated by the same nightmare,
two pillows pressed against our lips.
We choke and gasp for sweet air;
what did we do to deserve this?
Suffocated by the same shake up,
under a sky either black or blue.
This should be where we both wake up –
not this slumber as our doom.