| The short side of the wall is crumbling
|
| I don’t know if I should blame someone
|
| The short side of the wall is tumbling
|
| Over and over until it is overrun
|
| Lips of locks and hearts of rocks
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| Are losers that have won
|
| Minds of bricks and souls of sticks
|
| Are lined up one by one
|
| The short side of the wall is mumbling
|
| It was over before it begun
|
| The short side of the wall is humbling
|
| Stone by stone we own the revolution
|
| Priests of light and acolytes
|
| Will answer to no one
|
| Weary dogs and rusty cogs
|
| Are marching to the drum
|
| What do you want to be
|
| With all that you see
|
| What do you want to have
|
| With all that you have done
|
| What do you want to do
|
| Now that it’s through
|
| For what do you long
|
| Now that it is gone
|
| The short side of the wall is sunken
|
| And the future’s setting like the sun
|
| The short side of the wall fell down
|
| As the people fired off their guns
|
| Children dream of times that seem
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| Forgotten by everyone
|
| Devil’s bells and carousels
|
| Already have begun |