| This can’t be the place
|
| I’ve crawled 10,000 years
|
| Past the tyrants, past the tanks
|
| To a heaven brought to tears
|
| The sky shakes in its skin
|
| The sun too sick to shine
|
| Like a pair of rotten twins
|
| Please vacuum out my eyes
|
| Yeah! |
| See the jackals twist and moan
|
| Yeah! |
| Telling jokes so tired and old
|
| Yeah! |
| To pale oblivion
|
| Yeah! |
| Raise a glass! |
| Let’s have a toast!
|
| Run! |
| Go back! |
| Run!
|
| Oh, beautiful world
|
| You had your day
|
| But that season’s changed
|
| As quick as it came
|
| Welcome to the city of the wretched and plain
|
| No one leaves, no one stays
|
| Run, run, run to the place where you pray
|
| This is Head Wound City, USA
|
| Welcome to the kingdom of blasphemy
|
| No one stays, no one leaves
|
| Run, baby, run to the place where you pray
|
| This is Head Wound City, USA
|
| Run! |
| Go back! |
| Run! |