We’ve got nothing to fear — but fear itself?
Not pain or failure, not fatal tragedy?
Not the faulty units in this mad machinery?
Not the broken contacts in emotional chemistry?
With an iron fist in a velvet glove
We are sheltered under the gun
In the glory game on the power train
Thy kingdom’s will be done
And the things that we fear
Are a weapon to be held against us…
He’s not afraid of your judgement
He knows of horrors worse than your Hell
He’s a little bit afraid of dying —
But he’s a lot more afraid of your lying
And the things that he fears
Are a weapon to be held against him…
Can any part of life — be larger than life?
Even love must be limited by time
And those who push us down that they might climb —
Is any killer worth more than his crime?
Like a steely blade in a silken sheath
We don’t see what they’re made of
They shout about love, but when push comes to shove
They live for the things they’re afraid of
And the knowledge that they fear
Is a weapon to be used against them…