The brown and orange sky holds its breath as the sun retreats to the distant horizon

And our hearts palpitate anxiously as we soon will lay supine

And wait for sleep to overcome us

And from somewhere in our black subconscious minds when we're asleep

Comes a haunting, swelling mass of voices resonating

It screams of forgotten victims and the cries of innocents

And the desperate plea for recognition and recompense

Tiny voices

Echoes of our heritage

Our long and sallow faces turn the other way

Tiny voices

Harbored deep within

As we outwardly deny that they have something to say

And if you don't confront 'em

They will never go away

The billions of tiny pinhole embers fade into a morning sky

Filled with poignant, morose wonder

Waking, we bear a cosmetic peace that verifies the turmoil

That we carry deep inside

And from somewhere in our black subconscious minds when we're asleep

Comes a haunting, swelling mass of voices resonating

It screams of forgotten victims and the cries of innocents

And the desperate plea for recognition and recompense

Tiny voices

Echoes of our heritage

Our long and sallow faces turn the other way

Tiny voices

Harbored deep within

As we outwardly deny that they have something to say

And if you don't confront 'em

They will never go away

Go away

Go away