War Games
Morgan Lyrics


I looked, and could not see my hand
Held up before my eyes.
The clouds of war were gathering
Across the shrouded skies.
The Barons and the Princes
And the Ace in armoured fist,
Hold up the crumbling prison
Of the Truth which they resist.

The willing flame of apathy
Is fanned in many homes;
The independent voices
Speak in harmonising tones.
When you can feed the fortunes
Of a man you've never seen,
The time has come to beat
Your ploughs into a War Machine.

Tonight We ride on Bethlehem,
To where our troubles began.
Two thousand years we'll blow away;
God send the prophet again.
Tonight We ride, on Bethlehem,
The only man who might have helped
Suffered, and we watched Him die.

I've noticed lately that the news
Is unbelievable.
The whole illusion they prepare
Is working rather well.
The people must be kept amused;
If they should ever rise
Our precious empire will
Dissolve before our very eyes.

Tonight We ride on Bethlehem,
To where our troubles began.
Two thousand years we'll blow away;
God send the prophet again
Tonight We ride, on Bethlehem,
To where We first turned aside
The only man who might have helped
Suffered, and we watched Him die.
God send the prophet again.

Contributed by Julian S. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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Comments from YouTube:

F H

One of the best and most underrated prog tracks ever written, and one of my favourites of all time!! Only recently discovered Morgan, absolutely fallen in love with them~

solosoyvictor

He estado buscando este album, desde hace dos años , solo que no sabia el nombre de la banda, muchas gracias !!!

Benjamin Blake Mitchner

This song is so true. Jesus was the only man who could have saved us from our warlike and barbaric ways. I fully agree with the lyrics and I love their keyboard at the fore progressive rock sound. Very symphonic, but also pretty intense.

Ferreira Designs

I looked, and could not see my hand held up before my eyes. The clouds of war were gathering across the shrouded skies. The Barons and the Princes and the Ace in armoured fist, hold up the crumbling prison of the Truth which they resist. The willing flame of apathy is fanned in many homes; the independent voices speak in harmonising tones. When you can feed the fortunes of a man you've never seen, The time has come to beat your ploughs into a War Machine.

Ferreira Designs

Tonight We ride on Bethlehem, to where our troubles began. Two thousand years we'll blow away; God send the prophet again. Tonight We ride, on Bethlehem, The only man who might have helped suffered, and we watched Him die. I've noticed lately that the news is unbelievable. The whole illusion they prepare is working rather well. The people must be kept amused; if they should ever rise our precious empire will dissolve before our very eyes. (CHORUS)

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