Oversimplified and sensational news makes for an angry planet - Perhaps it's just a bad dream?
©2003, 2004 Mr.Downstairs
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I wrote this song the morning after having an intensely realistic dream. This dream consisted of me floating in a big glass sphere, soaring above a large body of water, looking down upon huge masses of angry, confused people wading around, looking for some lost message in a bottle in the water. I tried to show them the message that was in my hand, but they couldn't be distracted for one second to look up from their incessant gullability and animosity towards the current state of affairs, as told to them by the biased media sources surrounding them.
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If I could store all the world's heat in a bottle
You'd believe it and more
If I could store all the world's heat in a bottle
You can't bleed anymore
Let the crowds unite, and we'll pull our hair out with them
Mother's coming to take us away
Let her shout tonight, then wash your hands clean of it
This is what we call 'having it all'
Let our shouts ignite - infuriate Big Brother
Father's coming to take us away
So just paint it white. Maybe they won't think of it
Another story is sold today
White out what's left of the wasted time
Right out and left in the friends of mine
White out what's left of the wasted time
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