There's something wrong somewhere here So through unclean streets I made my way With holes in my shoes And my children asleep at my feet I paid my way
was born She should have worn a crown of thorns She should have been, been a son She should have been, been a son She should have been, been a son She
ba da da Ba ba da da ba da ba da Da ba ba da da ba da I love you baby And if it's quite all right I need you baby To warm a lonely night I love you baby
my Lord deliver Daniel? Deliver Daniel, deliver Daniel? Didn't my Lord deliver Daniel? And why not every man? The moon runs down in a purple stream And
vigilantes Forever ever delayed Forever ever delayed From the city to the sea Will you all come follow me To a place where we are free Not tied to
(Instrumental)
Blessed be the blade Blessed be the scythe Dionysos against the crucified Blessed be the blade Blessed be the scythe Dionysos against the crucified
a year It doesn't surprise me Happy Christmas I wrapped it up and sent it With a note saying: 'I loved you, I meant it' Now I know what a fool I've
debris Just a kid acting like I used to be Just a kid acting like I used to be Just a kid just a man and a boy Just a moment that time will destroy
of time I said baby, baby, baby You're out of time Yes you are left out Out of there without a doubt Baby, baby, baby You're out of time You thought you were a
Oh the road is beautiful The wall is a reason for you to believe There's too many numbers for us to sleep The wall is a reason for you to believe
s greatest politician Yesterday the boy who once had a mission I don't wanna be a prologue to history A prologue to histo... So I water my plants with Evian A
had a chance Like a dream stretched way too far All this time such a debt to the city I don't know who's the real enemy This is a socialist serenade
Put some lipstick on At least your lies will be pretty A shadow on my face And us donkeys wake up weary Sweating and sickly Donkeys don't allow
digest Xenophobia or general disinterest I must catch up with all this stuff They call me a boring fuckhead They say I might as well work in a bank
A framed adolescence steeped in the history of you Stopping the summer once for you Experience is lost on me I am melancholia eternally But I still
and true Brutal and mocking but always there A crutch for emnity's saddest glare I wish that someone would hold me Wrap their arms around a shrinking