In the howling wind comes a stinging rain
Into the souls on the tree of pain
From the firefly, a red orange glow
Running scared in the valley below
In the locust wind comes a rattle and hum
And the angel was overcome
You raise a flower of fire
See the flames higher and higher
This man comes runnin up to me
His face as red as the rose on a thorn bush
Like all the colors of a royal flush
He's holdin his hand out to me
He's got his finger in my face
He's got his finger in my face
I don't quite know what to do, you know
one part of me just wants to
Just wants to unload on him, you know?
And the other side of me says
He just don't understand, man.
He just don't understand.
He thinks I'm less of a man because I don't fit his ideals?
I guess he's entitled to his opinion, right?
He's entitled to his opinion?
'Cause after all, isn't this America?
I mean Goddamn, isn't this America?
Everyone can have their fuckin opinion in America
Everybody's got an opinion.
I gotta tell you about this dream I keep having,
Every night it's the same dream.
Maybe it's because we're on the road,
I don't sleep so well some nights.
That electric feedback guitar sound?
That's the sound I hear every night
as I put my head down on that pillow.
Anyway I was gonna tell you about
this dream I've been having
Every night it's the same dream.
I'm runnin through every city street and town
And as I run I see faces surrounding me
I see faces of our young and our elderly
and our sick and our poor
They're grabbin on to my arms
and they're grabbin on to my legs
I'm just runnin, you know?
I just pull them right along.
'Cause isn't that what we're supposed to do?
'Cause we're Americans, right? More from Queensrÿche