Tiny Voices-Bad Religion

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 innocence 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 them they will never go away The billions of tiny pinhole embers fade into a morning sky Filled with poignant morose wonder Waking to 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 innocence 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 we don't confront them they will never go away