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It has been 20 years since the towers fell. Two decades to mourn Two decades to heal, But the scars run just as deep as they did twenty years prior. Just as deep as the wounds that bleed into our streets
At a point in your life god is gonna be a word No different than mustard, couch, bagel At a point in your life god is No longer gonna be a word No different than love mercy justice prayer
CAN YOU IMAGINE? YOU WATCHED IT. BUT, DID YOU FEEL IT? BAM. BAM. DID YOU HEAR? THOSE WHERE THE BODIES HITTING THE GROUND AFTER WAVING GOOD BYE BEFORE JUMPING OFF THE BUILDING.
No time to think about what to do, everyone is screaming
Smoke clouding your sight, your vision
Here we go again Don’t touch me It was you this time NOT me Instead of saying yes
'I love you...' I whisper,across the expansethe gaping darkness,the thrilling chance? My heart it slows,as you turn and leave me,I stand in the snow,alone, wondering bleakly.
I've seen the dirty city's heart Through battered train windows revealed by the peachy gaze of a streetlamp army are countless streets and neighborhoods each made up of infinite detail
I was on Flight 93, On my way to San Francisco, When I died to keep you all free. Four Al-Qaeda from what I could see, They tried to take over but we told them no, I was on Flight 93.
No superman to save the day, No Spider-man to chase the bad away. Just a man in red chalked grey, To rescue those left at bay. Destruction and death at every glance, Racing to give someone a second chance.
He stuck his head out And like a chain reaction the trigger was pulled by a very weak limb. The face that slaughtered the innocent shall not live, there was no doubt. We knew the rugged appearance belonged to Him.