A Little Thing Called Death

people expect more than they're willing to work for

youth in hospitals with blood on the floor
angered teenagers storming out the door
pianos are left to gather dust in the attic
sheet music is a joke lost in the static

walking down the street can leave scars
kids going crazy and crashing dad's cars
they don't fight back or say the rights and wrongs
they leave all that pain for their nightmarish songs

bluebirds flew away when they smelt the air
we're left to deal with it, that's not fair
before this gets fixed, we'll all be toasting
the sun will be gone, but we'll still be roasting