We Want Our Brothers Back

Too many believe

in some 'master plan'

'cause it's hard to accept

what's not shapen by hand.



But here, under the sun,

where events can't be undone;

once superstition's spent -

You gotta know,

we want our brothers back.



The hurt came down

from the clear blue sky.

The sands of time

went rushing by.



It came as a shock,

we'd shut our eyes.

Is this all that's left,

just a slow good-bye?



The curators frown

and they wax abstract.

But, man, if you've found love

what could matter more than that?



It's a crime and a shame (selfish and vain)

to try to justify this pain.

I guess they'll think what they will -

But before the dawn

they'll want their brothers back.


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