|
Dismiss the telegram |
|
This is no exhibition |
|
A pile of papers that are bound and tethered |
|
We know the end of man |
|
Will stem from stale tradition |
|
Relaying opinions changing like the weather |
|
And this will never be |
|
And this will never be reversed, an installation |
|
Sending an open invitation |
|
To all the pioneers |
|
Driven by suspicion |
|
The old world is gone |
|
And we keep wishing |
|
For a new frontier to sink our teeth in |
|
And forget what you thought you believed in |
|
The plans we execute |
|
Are far between and few |
|
But I'll go around the world |
|
Just for something to do |
|
Existence is fleeting |
|
You spend your life dreaming |
|
The shores are exhausted, the tide is receding |
|
And this will never be (never be) |
|
And this will never be reversed, an installation |
|
Sending an open invitation |
|
To all the pioneers |
|
Driven by suspicion |
|
The old world is gone |
|
And we keep wishing |
|
For a new frontier to sink our teeth in |
|
And forget what you thought you believed in |
|
And those who resisted were dragged out from their homes |
|
This necklace was fashioned out of their teeth and bones |
|
And those who resisted were dragged out from their homes |
|
This necklace was fashioned out of their teeth and bones |
|
Out of their teeth and bones |
|
To all the pioneers |
|
Driven by suspicion |
|
The old world is gone |
|
And we keep wishing |
|
For a new frontier to sink our teeth in |
|
And forget what you thought you believed in |
|
Existence is fleeting... |
|
Existence is fleeting... |
|
Existence is fleeting... |
|
Existence is fleeting... |
