since i was a kid

so what don't we know?
there's a lot being hid;
the missiles have been pointed
since i was a kid.
there's angry old men,
they point and they shove;
they fight about peace;
they quarrel over love.
they trade in their blues;
they expect you to lose.
they'll lie to your face
and call it the news.
there's a sound that they make;
they'll want you to hear
all the songs that they sing,
and what words you should fear.
all the clouds in the sky,
a bright sun burning thru.
i'm putting faith in myself
and i'm relying on you.
don't heed their calls;
tear down the damn walls.
so what don't we know?
there's a lot being hid;
the missiles have been pointed
since i was a kid.