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We're a close parlay
To the quotient of the day.
Yeah it's all destroyed it won't even matter.
They say: "though we'll go, we have no home",
Except the one that makes us stop and say
This is where the weathered wear there arms like armor
And where the clock is like another wittled mother
Born to suffer.

So we scream Bloody Murder
(An evil fake bloody-martyr?)
And now we'll wait for the orders.

I am
Hostage
To the
Ebb and
Flow

We are
Hostage
To the
Ebb and
Flow, flow, flow, flow oh oh oh

OK now I got a (shot's lot?) of bread
(dossier?) brothel bound and
Red tape so they can't trace us
For this decree we remain nameless
Turn the page 'cause you just got famous

(silver top???) and serenade
And when complacency capitulates
Underneath the open sky
Tonight
So I drew a place all fit for your own pleasure
Lay down your sword and be thankful
Biding time for right or rifles
Is just a trick with out a trade
A trick with out a

We can't save you
From knowing the
Curse of the longest day

Cause and cure all
Come from having
the sense to know it was high time to escape.

So welcome to stop
Welcome to stop
Welcome to stop
Where progress halts

I am
Hostage
to the
Ebb and flow
We are
Hostage
To the
Ebb and flow
Flow, flow, flow, etc.

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