Saints and sinners.

While theres sinners that feel like home and there's saints that draw the line, you keep telling yourself that the problems just ain't mine, but your putting up with bullshit,  and your swearing it ain't there,  and I know I'm not the only one who's screaming in a prayer,  so I want to stop the anger and annihilate the hate when the flags of white come to battles,  in the returning of one's fate,  gotta see those who harboured love, from the clowns that make their fun, but the better half of you ain't hidden down the barrel of a gun, so I say to  my sin, I know this battle of ego, ain't the paths we choose to win, some might say it in the shadows,  some might gather in the light, but the battlefield ain't empty,  Cos we havnt stopped the fight, and I know it's hard to see it when you're on the other side, and the values of a saint Would hold its ground not hide, it's been a long time coming when we turn this ending page cos this life is like a play and we're standing on its stage,  so I hold the curtains for the applause, but you better bow your head, and when you make your curtsey,  remember all those dad, Cos we never act like grown-ups,  when they bring about the clown, and I hope we learn to love more when they bring the curtains down, Cos a war ain't what we ask for , when we find our inner peace,  just a standing ovation,  when the wars all cease.