| Let’s go out and dance, darling, our last of days
|
| And grace the game with a blindfold on
|
| The cheaters came to play
|
| And outside the soft-handed boys
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| Screaming cars and all their speed
|
| Music, math, a hero begging change
|
| His sword across his knees
|
| And how he prays to find a man to blame
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| For every sleepless night he spends
|
| And for every well that he warned me of
|
| But wound up falling in
|
| And then for the kids beneath the balcony
|
| Who disregard the rain
|
| To make sure the king won’t grant
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| The dead man one more day
|
| Let’s go out and see, darling
|
| What shines tonight
|
| And temper your dream about the dying horse
|
| With traffic, noise, and light
|
| And somewhere the soft-handed boys
|
| Bleeding hearts, and worker bees
|
| Give to the holy mother begging change
|
| Christ across her knees
|
| And oh, how she prays to find a man to blame
|
| For every loveless night she waits
|
| And for every gun that she frowned upon
|
| But still some fucker made
|
| And then for the kid beneath the balcony
|
| Behind the garbage can
|
| Who waits for the king to come
|
| And hold his sweating hand |