She could be your daughter
she could be your niece
and both of them can be had
for thirty dollars apiece
What does it say of us
when we sell off their innocence
How has it come to this
have we lost our minds, stop making sense
How many more of our precious ones
will be bartered off or be sold
Before we come to realize that
these children are not coins of errant gold
The day will come when we’ll all pay the price
For we’ve pushed our luck, we’ve all rolled the dice
We’ve turned a blind eye to what’s been done
We’ll come to regret this when Judgment Day has begun
DELIVERANCE
August 16, 2005
Tuesday
10:00 p.m.