Red Sands Lyrics - Clark Anne

Blood on the sand 

Blood on the hands 

of a handful of madman 

What a way to see the world 

Through the smeared window of a TV-Screen 

Technicolour assasinations 

Assasinations that make me scared and afraid 

Afraid of the streets that breed malice and hatred 

Those with their heads bowed to the darkness 

Those who can't see for the glave of the light 

Those without strength 

Who can't raise hands yet alone guns 

Become prisoners of concience 

Though not your concience 

You cheer and rejoice as life trickles away 

Through the outlets you give in the shape of a gun 

Our world is slipping quickly away