What do you want to do?
We run upstairs, turn on the TV and say,
Hey, I'm bored, so whaddya wanna do???
So I don't do it the normal way, so what
Instead, I go início each dia and I open up my list
Of how to save the world
I know it's childish, but what do you care?
At least it's better than doing nothing at all
At least I do something than nothing at all
What? Call me naive, crazy, a baby, I don't care
No, I don't care about what you say about me
Cuz I don't wake up every morning and say,
What's today? What's today?
What's tomorrow? What's tomorrow?
I just nod my head and say it's gonna be fine
Cuz it's a brand-new day
The creeking silence of age echos through the streets.
Sounds like old wooden floors under heavy feet.
All of the children once running around have evacuated
Or maybe they’ve just disappeared
Where have all the children gone?
Just yesterday they were tying ribbons in trees and swinging from the branches.
They were leaping over hot coals and swooning at anything
Where have all the children gone?
Those of us who remain wonder around like abandoned children in shopping malls.
Where have all the children gone?
Maybe this is just a dream
Maybe we are sleeping in rooms filled with metal shelves
If we put our ears to those shelves they would tell us stories of how they were emptied
Emptied por the fingers of fathers
Emptied into the flesh of their sons and daughters.
Where have all the children gone?
We hope they’re hiding
We hope they’re playing a game
But we know this is really happening
Where have all the children gone?
Sounds like old wooden floors under heavy feet.
All of the children once running around have evacuated
Or maybe they’ve just disappeared
Where have all the children gone?
Just yesterday they were tying ribbons in trees and swinging from the branches.
They were leaping over hot coals and swooning at anything
Where have all the children gone?
Those of us who remain wonder around like abandoned children in shopping malls.
Where have all the children gone?
Maybe this is just a dream
Maybe we are sleeping in rooms filled with metal shelves
If we put our ears to those shelves they would tell us stories of how they were emptied
Emptied por the fingers of fathers
Emptied into the flesh of their sons and daughters.
Where have all the children gone?
We hope they’re hiding
We hope they’re playing a game
But we know this is really happening
Where have all the children gone?
Ready to get inspired?
amor ya *imaginary hug*
