In a busy street
a man sits down
oblivious to the traffic sounds
no chaos, no frenzied shrieking crowd
they guard their silence
walking heads bent down

Count the hours in their lethargy
the treadmill turns
there down below their feet

Should I pray for an end to come quickly?

Or cross the waves of an angry sea
risking and braving
the shipwreck and the mutiny a__ailing

In a haunted doorway
hid from the light of day
see another life fall to ruin and pain
false smiles from even children it seems
a landlocked ground for empty and lost dreams

"A league against me", I hear him say
it's not worth half the effort
or the price you pay

Should I pray for an end to come quickly?

Or should I raise my face
to the heavens above and tell God,
"stop jeering at all our human frailties and our failings"
are we failing?

Pound, pound on an endless street
again and again the nightmare scene
all strained against the tightened rope
not one with a lasting lingering hope

There's evidence everywhere you see
put a quarter down at the newsstand
so that you can read

Should I pray for an end to come quickly?

Or should I raise my face
to the clouds above
entreating their mercy

But as clouds will do they'll rain down
first gently and sweetly until they silence me
with a burst of thunder and lightning

Helpless landlocked screaming
I know God must be agreeing
It's the worst part of watching
It's the worst part of watching
It's the worst part of watching
It's the worst part

Landlocked and screaming
God must be agreeing
to be helpless is the worst
must be the worst part of watching
the worst part of watching

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