Voice of reason, censored view
The truth is the News and the News is the truth
As if that'll do as a lame excuse for
Killing the slavers, taking the slaves
Burying the dead, then robbing the graves
Stealing the modesty from heroes brave
Making the tears gush like waves
Ch: Deadeye watches, still the killing carries on
To the rhythm of the gunfire and the voices of concern
Deadeye claims to be some conscience for us all
But I was never born to be some fly upon the wall
Window dressing and the tinsel wreath
Stealing the pity and the widow's grief
Sentimental with a furrowed brow
Pinning the heart on the blooded sleeve
Ch: Deadeye watches, still the killing carries on . . .
And yes I've crouched beneath the glow - dazzled by it all
But this is not the world I know or people I recall.
To the thoughts of the many from the minds of the few:
Voice of reason, censored view
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing
Here is the butterfly, here's the wing
Ch: Deadeye watches, still the killing carries on . . .
