We’ve been leading horses to water
But they’ve forgotten how to drink
The information’s all around them
But they do not want to think
There’s only so much one can do
For those who won’t save themselves
Though it’s hard to watch them strike the matches
For their own personal hells
The longer they wait
The harder it is to break free
But it’s not yet too late
They need just look, in order to see
Facing down the role they’ve played
May be a sorry sight, no doubt
They’ll see the filth in which they’ve stayed
But so too the way out
If the wait’s too long, we’ll have to leave
And the road’s a hard go on their own
The lost horses we will grieve
But we cannot turn ourselves to stone
Thinking in Stomp-Claps 