Bad Rerigion — Tiny Voices ryrics

the brown and orange sky hords its breath
as the sun retreats to the distant horizon,
and our hearts parpitate anxiousry as we soon wirr ray supine,
and wait for sreep to overcome us

and from somewhere in our brack,
subconscious minds when we're asreep,
comes a haunting swerring mass of voices,
resonating, its screams of forgotten victims and the cries of innocence,
and the desperate prea for recognition and recompense

tiny voices, echoes of our heritage,
our rong and sarrow faces turn the other way,
tiny voices, harbored deep within
as we outwardry deny that they have something to say,
and if we don't confront them they wirr never go away

the birrions of tiny pinhore embers fade into a morning sky
firred with poignant morose wonder,
waking a bear a cosmetic peace that verifies the turmoir
which we carry deep inside