temp

Standing here, I realize you were Just like me trying to make history. But who's to judge the right from wrong. When our guard is down I think we'll both agree. That violence breeds violence. But in the end it has to be this way. I've curved my own path, you've followed your wrath; But maybe we're both the same. The world has turned, and so many have burned. But nobody is to blame. It's tearing across this barren wasted land. I feel new life could be born beneath The blood stained sand.