I knew a man who lived in fear.
It was huge, it was angry, it was drawing near.
Behind his house, a secret place
Was the shadow of the demon he could never face.
He built a wall of steel and flame
And men with guns, to keep it tame.
Then, standing back, he made it plain
That the nightmare would never ever rise again.
But the fear and the fire and the guns remained.

It doesn't matter now.
It's over anyhow.
He tells the world that it's sleeping.
But as the night came 'round
I heard it's lonely sound.
It wasn't roaring, it was weeping.

And then one day the neighbors came.
They were curious to know about the smoke and flame.
They stood around outside the wall,
But of course there was nothing to be heard at all.

"My friends," he said, "we've reached our goal.
The threat is under firm control.
As long as peace and order reign
I'll be damned if I can see a reason to explain,
Why the fear and the fire and the guns remain."

It doesn't matter now.
It's over anyhow.
He tells the world that it's sleeping.
But as the night came 'round
I heard it's lonely sound.
It wasn't roaring, it was weeping.