Something is going wrong With the singer and the song And the music isn't gentle anymore There's a mist across the moon And the sun's too hot at noon And the house is dark behind the broken door Where the flowers used to grow Now their leaves are hanging low And a constant shadow lies across the floor Theres a strange and empty sky Where the wild birds used to fly And I never tasted bitter rain before And will the gra** be gone from underneath the sky? Will the golden flower wither soon and die Will the fire burn out the land And the sea fill-up with sand? Will the last word ever spoken be why? Will the last word ever spoken be why? Someones lost the plan For the brotherhood of man And no one's trying to find it anymore And the winds become a sigh For those who hate and those who die And the waves are black and slow along the shore And will the gra** be gone from underneath the sky? Will the golden flower wither soon and die? Will the fire burn out the land And the sea fill-up with sand? Will the last word ever spoken be why? Will the last word ever spoken be why, why, why? Will the last word ever spoken be ..why?