Lyrics of 'The Observer' by Roine Stolt
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I'm an angel in disguise watching the world
I'm a weary wanderer with sleepy eyes
The world has gone wrong in so many ways
See the wicked prosper in a predatory fashion
They're gonna steal the last single bit of freedom
They're gonna hunt down the radical poets and kill them
And I'm not sure if it's part of a wicked masterplan
But I'm getting out of here before the xxxx hits the fan, that's right
Watching half the world taking all they can
While the other half are left with empty hands
The mean-in-spirit just keep cashing in
Just like "I, me , mine" is never wearing thin
Life and death lies in the power of a few
Too much of what's given is lost in transition
Them little greedy hands pile up another cold stash, what else could they do?
It's in the weakness of man I guess, but that's no consolation
Watching half the world taking all they can
While the other half are left with empty hands
The mean-in-spirit just keep cashing in
Just like "I, me , mine" is never wearing thin
I'm a lonely angel on the boulevard
Tryin' to speak your language but it's getting harder
Any act of kindness doesn't go down well around here, does it?
It may be out of fashion, I just couldn't tell
Watching half the world taking all they can
While the other half are left with empty hands
The mean-in-spirit just keep cashing in
Just like "I, me , mine" is never wearing thin
Any gospel written is a serious threat - and the alternative truths from any dissident
Any questions asked that will start you thinkin' are the steps of a nu-world in the making
I'm an angel in disguise watching this world
I'm a weary wanderer who has seen too much
The world has turned it's back on God
For pride and profit and deranged obsessions
While the overweight keep dying of heartattacks
The junk food chains provide the sticks and stones
Still those haunting images just keep coming back
I see the Kids of Africa are just skin and bone
The devil dogs select the major target
Now panic spreads, we fear the next attack
Now 50 killed in the London market
They'll find a scapegoat soon and start firing back
I'm an angel in disgust and I'm watching your world
I'm a weary wanderer and a tortured soul
Just one of the helpless who watch this chaos
While the firearm merchants celebrate the riots
They're gonna steal your last single bit of freedom
They're gonna hunt down the lost unfaithful and kill them
They've abused the power their God once gave'em
Make no mistake, 'cause I'm not one of them
Make no mistake, 'cause I'm not one of them
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