Two Minutes to Midnight - Joe Lynn Turner, Richie Kotzen

Kill for gain or shoot to maim

But we don’t need a reason

The Golden Goose is on the lose

And never out of season

Some blackened pride burns inside

This shell of bloody treason

Here’s my gun for the barrel of fun

For the love of the living death

The killer’s breed, or the demon’s seed

The glamor, the fortune, the pain

Go to war again, blood is freedom stain

But don’t you pray for soul anymore

2 minutes to midnight

The hands that threaten doom

2 minutes to midnight

To kill the unborn in the womb

The blind men shout, let the creatures out

We’ll show the unbelievers

The NAPALM screams of humans flames

Of a prime time Betson feast yeah!

As the reasons for carnage cut their meat and lick they gravy

We oil the jaws of the war machine and feed it with our babies

2 minutes to midnight

The hands that threaten doom

2 minutes to midnight

To kill the unborn in the womb

The body bags and the little rags of children torn in two

And the jellied brains of those who remains to put finger right on you

As the Madman play on words and makes us all dance to their song

To the tune of starving millions to make a better kind of gun

The killer’s breed, or the demon’s seed

The glamor, the fortune, the pain

Go to war again, blood is freedom stain

But don’t you pray for soul anymore

2 minutes to midnight

The hands that threaten doom

2 minutes to midnight

To kill the unborn in the womb

Midnight, midnight, is all night

Midnight, midnight, is all night

Midnight, is all night