At night I lay awake.
What was it like for them?
Spending their nights, cold; too tired to shake.
Working 'til they bled.
Funny, isn't it, that they bleed red?
I look through my transparent skin,
Watch as the gold flows through my veins.
This must have been their excuse for their cruelty.
We bleed bright gold! Brilliant gold that makes up for their pains.
Why do we treat our brothers with hatred?
Were we not born from the same womb?
Did God give us life and they from a mull?
For what it's worth our blood doth gleam!
What was his name?
The man with the dream?
At night I lay awake.