|
An electric concrete fantasy |
|
Where the billboards keep on warning me |
|
That if I don't keep moving, |
|
I'll get stuck in this place |
|
Where nobody gets out alive. |
|
The dead all came out to play in this metropolitan decay, |
|
A cemetry called |
|
Los Angeles. |
|
The sun holds no regrets |
|
The natives sway under arrest |
|
As all the stars fall from the sky. |
|
Now we've all sold our souls |
|
We're just waiting for the show |
|
To begin here at the edge. |
|
What the hell we doing here |
|
We're everywhere |
|
But no one's here, |
|
Bodies in motion, desperate motion. |
|
The angels have all gone insane |
|
I know I'll never be the same so let it ride |
|
We're going for a ride. |
|
Now we've all sold our souls |
|
We're just waiting for the show |
|
To begin here at the edge. |
|
Now I watch those zombies celebrate |
|
The burning of their favorite heretics and demigods. |
|
The dead all came out to play in this metropolitan decay, |
|
A cemetry called |
|
Los Angeles. |
|
The dead all came out to play in this metropolitan decay, |
|
A cemetry called |
|
Los Angeles. |
|
The dead all came out to play in this metropolitan decay, |
|
A cemetry called |
|
Los Angeles. |
|
The dead all came out to play in this metropolitan decay, |
|
A cemetry called |
|
Los Angeles.{fade} |
|
The dead all came out to play in this metropolitan decay, |
|
A cemetry called |
|
Los Angeles. |
