it's like a conversation where no-one stops to breathe is it my imagination or did god already leave the table such destruction and pure white castles in the sand no time for introduction with all that money changing hands and the satellite says take a look at all we have but the old man says you want my family for your liberty I can't do that. look into the eyes of any patient man whether they be amber green or blue there's a piece of god staring back at you but they see our children and the old folk fend for themselves they see our broken women on imaginary shelves but the satellite says won't you people look at all we have don't you want it can't you see the things that you lack children in his arms he turns his back