Facts are few, but they just may
Be everything we talk today
Your word. His word. Her word. Theirs.
No one seems to understand the realness of current affairs
Logic is illogical when numbers mean nothing no more
All that matters is the playbook that they carry to the floor
It’s funny, right? Cause here, tonight
We’ll sit here as these drinks we pour
Watching wasteful Washington while they decide what to explore
Get it I don’t, but the message is clear
The hatred’s infectious, one direction to steer
I don’t know why they won’t let the guy just finish things he sought to do
The parchment that defined our world was written for us, me and you
I pray that some day we’ll acknowledge all the things we came here for
Living life how we’re supposed to without all the need for war
I digress, it’s hope I guess, that’s what we want in our core
But sadly battles, still un-rattled, seem to bloody this white floor
How the World Should Work 