Here it is, a souvenir!
This, my proof, the world was here!
I know you don't remember when...
Now, we're beasts; we once were men.
We built such structures, scraped the sky.
In metallic birds, we used to fly.
The cities built are now all dust,
But used to shine before this rust.
And this right here, it points the truth.
They're not just stories, here's the proof!
So won't you listen one more time:
Of red balloons, count ninety-nine?
Me, your mother; her and I
A lil toy shop that we did spy
And purchased with our change combined
Those red balloons, count ninety-nine.
We filled them up and made a wish
And then released them, just like this.
We let them fly, and never guessed,
The hawks perceived it as a threat!
Fighter jets, count ninety-nine,
Shot our balloons out of the sky.
Debris it fell on neighbor right,
And war machine, it sprang to life!
And neighbors from directions three--
It would be four, but for the sea--
Provoked we did, their awesome might
And one by one, excuse to fight.
Guns and bombings, fire! fire!
Chaos, sobbing, dire! dire!
A dog of hell, it slipped that day
The pack that followed wiped world away.
It's best you don't remember when...
We once were beasts, but now we're men.
The wintered earth, it's naught but dust
But used to shine before this rust.
And here it is, a souvenir:
This, my proof, the world was here
A cosmic joke that it remains
the instigator of this pain.
A lone balloon, and helium gas.
Fill it up, and tie it fast.
And let's release it, just like this.
A message that, we still exist.
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Haven't written in a while, got inspired when I came across
this song again, and thought I'd use it as inspiration for a spoken word piece. My version's more bittersweet, and less rocking but you know...
