A flower turns to rotten words The morning sky grows dim The papers all eat themselves And everything's a sin
A skeleton man with a flesh pen Signs his golden name Upon the wall, like a child's scrawl Like spirits leave a stain
Holy towns, holy worlds And holy walking meat Butchering itself While blood rains in the street
And even a dead man wears a mask There is no death's retreat Just the siren's famous wail That sings you sweet to sleep
Headless headlines hollow breath Lead us in that dance of death And if you think you're not in line Then you ain't being honest
The rules come from the top my friend They run the world you're living in The hypnotist, illusionist Got hands down in your pockets
There's no trace of Eden here Where the new martyr bleeds Guns ring out in a house of God Like thunder in your feed
And the twisted vines of myth they climb Till you can't tell who's lying The war gets close and no-one knows For which side they are dying
Smog and fog and diamond shit That shines and makes you ill Is there one single unbroken heart Out in the mire still?
Well if there is then tell me this How long do you think it takes Before the divide gets inside And bleeds it till it breaks?
Headless headlines hollow breath Lead us in that dance of death And if you think you're not in line Then you ain't being honest
The rules come from the top my friend They run the world you're living in The hypnotist, illusionist Got hands down in your pockets
Tents under the overpass Broken glass and dread Driving by, you lock the eye But turn away the head
And the 1% can pick and chose The fates of all of us What's it like to see The golden rule turning into rust?
Voices voice the void in vain On radios of silence Like weary waves that push and pull And give the ships no guidance
As candles burn and beg the dark To stop its slow decent Is this the light of conscience? Oh tell me where it went
Headless headlines hollow breath Lead us in that dance of death And if you think you're not in line Then you ain't being honest
The rules come from the top my friend They run the world you're living in The hypnotist, illusionist Got hands down in your pockets Jeff Bezos and Pope Francis Got hands down in your pockets Mickey Mouse the capitalist Got hands down in your pocketsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.