| The space shuttle ends where the subway begins
|
| There’s a tear on the face of the moon
|
| From dusk until dawn they have searched all day long
|
| But there’s too many clues in this room
|
| At best it is said we’ve been locked deep inside
|
| Of an old sea man’s chest full of charts
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| Where maps are contained and what’s left of his brains
|
| When his crew threw his balls to the sharks
|
| All around the looking glass
|
| Dancing to a tune
|
| Sweeping out the house with a fine tooth comb
|
| Which history’s shown
|
| Leads to ruin
|
| In a word it is said that at times we must fall
|
| But the worst of it all was the lies
|
| We died for the cause just like regular outlaws
|
| In the dust of an old lawman’s eyes
|
| In times best forgot there was peace there was not
|
| In her pains mother earth came to bloom
|
| Her children were born in the eye of the storm
|
| And there’s too many clues in this room
|
| The power that is stored in this no man’s land of chance
|
| Is the someone who knows what they’re doin'
|
| The old soldiers say in their own crusty way
|
| We’ve got too many troops in this room
|
| All around the looking glass
|
| Dancing to a tune
|
| Sweeping out the house with a fine tooth comb
|
| Which history’s shown
|
| Leads to ruin
|
| The space shuttle ends where the subway begins
|
| Praise the lord there’s a train leavin' soon
|
| From dusk until dawn they have searched all day long
|
| But there’s too many clues in this room |