While the wicked seem to prosper
And glory in these days
As if their ways were hidden
As if they had escaped
We have lost our sense of justice
Smearing lines of right and wrong
Despising any standards
We blindly stumble on
Bleeding hearts may scream compassion
What of those that cannot cry
A life is worth a life
Justice, merciful and blind
Innocent blood
Is crying from the ground
It's coming down