Nobody's gona to fix her now
But it's a world full of trouble
An American massacre
In Southern California
But we're reasoning with messengers
Who sit and talk about the weather
When it's just another nightmare
A slaughter of the children

With the wolves out there
And the bleeding hearts
And the long, blank stares
And the open mouths
She had her last shirt on
Now all stained with blood
With nowhere to run
And you sit and wonder whether anything could be done

And I could climb a mountain
Ah, but what am I going to find there?
When nothing comes from nothing
With every man an island
And we're reasoning with messengers
Who try to pass for grown men
And they're coming up empty
And they're sending you their thoughts and prayers

With the wolves out there
And the bleeding hearts
And the long, blank stares
And the open mouths
She had her last shirt on
Now all stained with blood
With nowhere to run
And you sit and wonder whether anything could be done