When the blind carry the lame, when the blind carry the lame
they go forward. They go forward just the same.

To all the people, all the ones, we need to listen.
To all the daughters, and all the songs, and all the parents.
Look up.

No sarcasm. No rhetoric. It's all deleted.
One to one. Eye to eye. Exchange ideas.

We all house pain and sorrow their windows, our eyes.
None of which can be hidden by currencies and clever neckties.

Not one of us can go it alone.

We can agree to disagree or we can fight.
And if we fight, only us, and only fists.

When the blind carry the lame.
When we realize that we're all insance.
On, Forward, On.

Drop the controlls. Drop the machismo pride.
On, Forward, On.
Drop the controllers and let yourself outside.
On, Forward, On.
On, Forward, On.
On, Forward, On.