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Clouds of Smoke (A Prophet's Warning) - The King's Blues Club
They say the truth is born from a fight,
more is that so?
Maybe we could search for a way out of the dark nest,
together, take it slow.
Two minds can't fit one truth,
a trace of bullet turns out the light.
Grandpa's world is rich with grandkids,
but another's love is left to die.
Down where the pain is coming,
the spring of blood won't run dry.
The sky's on fire, tell me about tomorrow,
the day my eyes won't spy.
They painted us all in crimson,
for a bit, or for eternity.
The sun shines down the same for all, don't it?
Yeah, but it dies differently.
The shine that let golden bow will fade,
you'll see.
And we'll understand, in the desert,
go be what the water be.
With our palms burned down to ashes,
it'll be too late to pray for peace.
And a chance to win it back,
that light ain't shining down on me.
Our children won't rise from a bed,
that's quite so deep, you see.
They'll have a sun without the smoke, and snow without the grind,
they'll have it all, only in their dreams.
When there's no one left to live for,
no one left to blame.
The final sunset's hurrying over the hill,
heading for the flame.
We fold our hands, leave the trigger,
try to pray for some relief.
But the clouds of smoke won't grant us rain,
only more grief.
When there's no one left to live for,
no one left to blame.
The final sunset's hurrying over the hill,
heading for the flame.
We fold our hands, leave the trigger,
try to pray for some relief.
But the clouds of smoke won't grant us rain,
only more grief.
And no one will recall the way they scattered,
just like grapes from the vine.
Those final nails for coffins, so still fully force and so fine.
When across the earth, scorched dry,
with malice and with rage.
Your winning bones will march on by,
their skulls held high, turning the page.
Almost a den,
just a man who passed the test.
Took a thousand years to build a rifle,
now we grease it with our very best.
When greed's everywhere, sprouts on the earth's own ground.
You'll understand you can't squeeze a single drop,
from the black cloud of ash, know how.
They say this civilization is advanced,
you really think it's true?
They say this civilization is developed,
riding to its grave through and through.
There are arguments awaiting in the cliff,
let's get drunk where the red rivers won.
Tell me about tomorrow's past,
when beasts walk to the water and hold.
Oh, I step guilt away our mother,
she'll be standing, coming for a due.
And our thirst for profit will echo back,
is cracks in me and you.
If we bore it first by the anger,
and a calm and fiery pile.
When a thousand arrows take their flight,
into that one's bright sky.
When there's no one left to live for,
no one left to blame.
The final sunset's hurrying over the hill,
heading for the flame.
We fold our hands, leave the trigger,
try to pray for some relief.
But the clouds of smoke won't grant us rain,
only more grief.
Oh, them clouds of smoke,
they don't bring no rain.
Just a long dark shadow,
and a long, long pain.
Just a long, dark shadow.