[00:25.53] |
An address to the golden door |
[00:27.36] |
|
[00:28.49] |
I was strumming on a stone again |
[00:30.21] |
|
[00:31.51] |
Pulling teeth from the pimps of gore |
[00:33.92] |
When hatched a tragic opera in my mind |
[00:36.85] |
|
[00:37.50] |
And it told of a new design in |
[00:39.32] |
|
[00:40.47] |
Which every soul is duty bound |
[00:42.61] |
|
[00:43.41] |
To uphold all the statutes of boredom |
[00:45.94] |
Therein lies the fatal flaw of the red age |
[00:48.85] |
|
[00:49.47] |
Because it was nothing like we'd ever dreamt |
[00:52.12] |
Or lust for life had gone away |
[00:53.81] |
With the rent we hated |
[00:55.42] |
And becase it made no money |
[00:57.00] |
Nobody saved no one's life this time |
[00:59.34] |
|
[01:02.84] |
So we burned all our uniforms |
[01:04.90] |
|
[01:05.84] |
And let nature take it's course again |
[01:08.06] |
|
[01:08.85] |
And the big onese just eat all the little ones |
[01:11.34] |
|
[01:12.62] |
That sends us back to the drawing board |
[01:14.61] |
|
[01:25.38] |
In my darkest hours |
[01:26.88] |
|
[01:27.94] |
We have all asked for some |
[01:29.70] |
|
[01:31.12] |
Angel to come |
[01:32.32] |
|
[01:34.02] |
Sprinkle his dust all around |
[01:36.63] |
|
[01:37.99] |
But all our crying voices |
[01:40.03] |
They can't turn it around |
[01:41.79] |
|
[01:43.42] |
And you've had some crazy |
[01:44.51] |
Conversations of your own |
[01:50.47] |
|
[01:57.55] |
We've got rules and maps |
[01:58.77] |
And guns in our backs |
[02:00.29] |
But we still can't just behave ourselves |
[02:03.11] |
|
[02:03.98] |
Even if to save our own lives |
[02:06.47] |
|
[02:07.29] |
We are a brutal kind |
[02:12.43] |
|
[02:21.46] |
'Cause this is nothing like we'd ever dreamt |
[02:23.66] |
|
[02:24.20] |
Tell Sir Thomas More |
[02:25.41] |
We've got another failed attempt |
[02:27.78] |
'Cause if it makes them money |
[02:29.52] |
They might just give you life this time |