Atlantis

Fire on the altar, panic in the street
to the ships they run.
Some are at the palace pleading for the king
but the king can't come.

What would you do?
What would you do?

Some are hiding at home underneath the bed
in a cold red light,
others playing music singing to the sky
in the long last night.

They sing and stare.
They shout their voices in the air.

Hear the cry of the great high priest
as he slits the throat of the sacrifices.
Begging to the god please save our land
but the god doesn't understand.
Gold on his face like a sinister clown,
and he cries to the sky as the day falls down.
There were sounds in the city like a funeral bell
when the isle of Atlantis fell.

Some are laughing loudly pointing at the crush
like the mad men do.
Fire on the altar, fire in the bush
as the floor falls through.

What would you do?
What would you do?

Some are stealing money from the shattered bank
and the gold piles high.
Some are in the temple singing to their god
as the people die.

They sing and stare.
They shout their voices in the air.

Hear the cry of the great high priest
as he slits the throat of the sacrifices.
Begging to the god please save our land
but the god doesn't understand.
Gold on his face like a sinister clown,
and he cries to the sky as the day falls down.
There were sounds in the city like a funeral bell
when the isle of Atlantis fell.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.