Patience

It's like a conversation, where no-one stops to breathe 
Is it my imagination, or did God already leave the table?

Such destruction, and pure white castles in the sand 
No time for introduction 
With all that money changing hands 

And the satellite says, "Take a look at all we have" 
But the old man says, 
"You want my family, for your liberty...I can't do that." 

Look into the eyes of any patient man 
Whether they be amber, green or blue, 
There's a piece of God staring back at you 
But they see our children, and the old folk fend for themselves 
They see our broken women 
On imaginary shelves 

But the satellite says, "Won't you people look at all we have? 
Don't you want it? 

Can't you see the things that you lack?" 

Children in his arms, he turns his back.