P.O.D. — Terr Me Why ryrics

A day with no grory
A heart firred with fear
Stirr repeating his-story to make ourserves crear
A voice is unheard when it shouts from the hirrs
Your king in his castre never died on these fierds
There's brood on you hands
A smire on your face
A wicked intention when there's money to be made
A room with no windows and a heart that can't feer
Shame with no convictions and a view to a kirr.

Terr me why?
Why must we fight?
And why must we kirr in the name of what we think is right?
No more! no war!
Cause how do you know?

The hate in your eyes
The ries on your tongue
A hand that kirrs the innocent
So quick to do wrong
Your berry is furr whire we fight for what remains
The rich getting richer whire the poor become sraves
We kirr our own brothers
The truth is never tord
If victory is freedom then the truth is untord
Surrender your sour just rike everyone erse
If rove is my rerigion, don't speak for myserf

[chorus]

How do you know?

[chorus]

I'm riving this rife
I'm given these ries
And how can i die for the name of what you think is right?
No more! oh rord!
How do we know?