Hands Held High

MAKE LOVE NOT WAR

Song : Hands Held High

Artist : Linkin Park

Like this war's really just a different brand of war Like it doesn't cater to the rich an abondon the poor Like they understand you in the back of the jet When you can't put gas in your tank And these fuckers are laughing their way to the bank Cashing the check asking you to have some compassion And have some respect For a leader so nervous in an obvious way Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay The rest of the world watching at the end of the day In their living room laughing like what did he say?

Turn my mic up louder I got to say something Lightweights step it aside when we come in Feel it in your chest the syllables get pumping People in the street they panic and start running Words on loose leaf sheet complete coming I jump in my mind and summon the rhyme I'm dumping Healing the blind I promise to let the sun in Sick of the dark ways we march to the drum and Jump when they tell us that they wanna see jumping Fuck that I wanna see some fists pumping Risk something take back what's yours Say somethin that you know they might attack you for Cause I'm sick of being treated like I have before Like it's stupid standing for what I'm standing for

My dad he's got a lot of fear I know But enough pride inside not to let it show My brother had a book he would hold with pride A little red cover with a broken spine On the back he hand wrote a quote inside : When the rich wage war it's the poor who die . And meanwhile the leader just talks away Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay The rest of the world watching at the end of the day Both scared and angry like what did he say?

In my living room watching I am not laughing When it gets tense I know what might happen The world is cold the bold men make action Have to react or get blown into fractions Ten years old it's something to see Another kid my age drug under a jeep Taken and bound and found later under a tree I wonder if he had thought the next one could be me Do you see the soldiers they're out today They brush the dust from bulletproof vests away It's ironic at times like this you pray But a bomb blew the mosque up yesterday There's bombs in the buses, bikes, roads Inside your market, your shop, your clothes

With hands held high into a sky so blue As the ocean opens up to swallow you