Oh my broken lamb I worry when you cry Baby's gonna fetch ya Horses in the sky
Though dead hands ring the garden And these are violent times And violence brings more violence And liars bring more lies
Though we was born defeated Worried, tired and scared And monsters build mean robots Launching rockets into the air
And the wealth of our nations Fed on angel blood And our cities shot with moneyed schemes Built on twigs and mud
And our schools look like prisons And our prisons look like malls And downtown's just a sick parade Where no-one cares at all
And our hero's all died crazy Broken, poor or shot Let's celebrate their tragedy And sanctify the loss
And manifest the daydream Like those who fell before And glorify our small attempts And hate ourselves no more
Blow words between these sucker's teeth And bind these panicked hands Lose your heart like a clumsy bell Please be well
And all I true love Is the light In my sister's darling eyesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
