“I hope to Christ it's the soundstage,” Clara spat through her teeth With no idea how right she was Or the meaning underneath These simple words
And thus the fire's burning Iron doors are blowing— Open wide for a final silent scream
The innocents of Paris was interrupted at the time But it was still released in 1929 And it's a crude but apt analogy And though change may bring agony Sound and image always would align
Maybe it was just a funny accent Maybe it was just a stupid Voic-ing all the reasons it should stay the same But they never had a choicе
Maybe it was due to their abilitiеs Or lack thereof Their begging— Pleasing to the eye, but not the ear Cries rise and fall from the smallest voice
And thus the fire's burning Iron doors are blowing— Open wide for a final silent scream
Hollywood starts turning Audiences become discerning Of the person on the screen
Pay lip service to future debts Set the scene Silver tongues immortalized on silver screens Nothing's too precious to stay Babels must fall everyday
Unraveling the reels of tomorrow On time that's borrowed Dismantle ideals of today
Death rattle sounds without notice A damsel tied to the tracks A locomotive comes rushing forth And the listeners turn their backs Their faces away
And thus the fire's burning Iron doors are blowing— Open wide for a final silent scream
Hollywood starts turning Audiences become discerning Of the person on the screen
Pay lip service to future debts Set the scene Silver tongues immortalized on silver screens Nothing's too precious to stay Babels must fall everyday
Eagle or Icarus took flight from the gate Built in defiance of god With language confounded The eagle was grounded And the tower was found to be flawed And I was the first cast out I vacantly bowed out I die before my time Before the stars could realign
Follow my lead Fall into me Fall into decay Fall into meTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.