Paint it Red.

I see a closed door and I want to paint it red.
No hope here anymore, the children wanting bread,
I see a child walk by, dressed in his ragged clothes,
I have to turn my head until my sadness goes.

I see a dirty face, it happens to be red.
They're flowers on the street, growing only to live death,
I see people turn their heads, and quickly look away,
No one helps and children here are dying everyday.

I look inside myself and see my heart gone dead.
I see the children sleep in cardboards, -you in beds,
Maybe one-day people will wake up to face the facts,
I can't wake up another day and wait till we get to that.

One day you'll look behind and ask, "What did I do?
I can foresee guilt is coming to haunt you.

If I could make you see the blame upon you and me,
A child with the right to call you "selfish!" -who are we?

I see a locked door and I want to paint it red,
Red with the blood of children that for you have bled,
Dirty faces, leave no traces, I see you turn your heads,
Look away and never say our children you ever fed.

Nanananana the streets have turned all red
Nanananana From children that have bled
Nanananana You're living -they're all dead
Nanananana They want food -you have bread
Nanananana You'll die -guilt on your head....

CHILDREN'S GOD IS DEAD!!!!!