| My bones don’t click in place when I sit on the machine
|
| Not as of late do I integrate, scarcely say what I mean
|
| This thing was built with one of my ribs
|
| I was there when it was given a name
|
| But I’ve been overpowered by those who took it away
|
| It doesn’t even look the same
|
| Those hired in to intervene and supervise it’s size
|
| Do plot against the weakened will before the weak ones realize
|
| I found it’s bones in my backyard, I put them on display
|
| I set it up with leering eyes and gave it a voice to say:
|
| «I am just the voice of one who’s greater than this
|
| But I am still a sacred voice, I will not be dismissed»
|
| The bones still look out on my yard
|
| Though the pieces are taken apart
|
| They paint it colors I can’t stand but they will not touch it’s heart
|
| They stick tacky ornaments on it and they sell it to the kids
|
| I can barely stand to see it now
|
| But there’s still a voice in it
|
| When I answer to the one who gave the bones to me
|
| I want to say I cared for them, and say it honestly
|
| Those closest to me take it away and twist it out of shape
|
| But the voice within still rattles the bones
|
| The voice still resonates
|
| «I am just the voice of one who’s greater than this
|
| But I am still a sacred voice, I will not be dismissed»
|
| «I am just the voice of one who’s greater than this
|
| But I am still a sacred voice, I will not be dismissed
|
| I am just the voice of one who’s greater than this
|
| But I am still a sacred voice, I will not be dismissed
|
| I am just the voice of one who’s greater than this
|
| But I am still a sacred voice, I will not be dismissed
|
| I am just the voice of one who’s greater than this
|
| But I am still a sacred voice, I will not be dismissed
|
| I will not be dismissed» |