Lord I must be dreaming, what else could this be Everybody's screamin', runnin' for the sea Holy lands are sinkin', birds take to the sky The prophets all are stinkin' drunk, I know the reason why Eyes are full of desire, mind is so ill at ease Everything is on fire, shit piled up to the knees
Out of rhyme or reason, everyone's to blame Children of the season don't be lame Sorry, you're so sorry, don't be sorry Man has known and now he's blown it upside down And hell's the only sound We did an awful job and now they say it's nobody's fault
Old Saint Andres seven years ago Shove it up their richters, red lights stop and go Noblemen of courage listen with their ears Spoke but how discouragin' when no one really hears One of these days you'll be sorry, too many houses on the stilt Three million years or just a story, four on the floor up to the hilt
Out of rhyme or reason, everyone's to blame Children of the season don't be lame Sorry, you're so sorry, don't be sorry Man has known and now he's blown it upside down And hell's the only sound We did an awful job and now we're just a little too late
Eyes are full of desire, mind is so ill at ease Everything is on fire, shit piled up to the knees
California showtime, 5 o'clock the news Said everybody's concubine was prone to take a snooze
Sorry, you're so sorry, don't be sorry Man has known and now he's blown it upside down And hell's the only sound We did an awful job and now we're just a little too lateTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
