| They’re burning up the mission hut
|
| While you’re ripping out the trees
|
| And all the time you’re wondering
|
| About tickets for the siege.
|
| So you had to catch a later train
|
| And narrowly missed the queue
|
| Gazing out from in your keep
|
| And you stole three at least.
|
| They watch themselves uneasily
|
| Changing the chairs around
|
| And you decide to watch it all
|
| From the helicopter pound.
|
| Ten more steps up to the top
|
| But the flagpole’s getting burned
|
| And you’re not getting tied up fast
|
| You’d rather miss the stage.
|
| Reach the edge and look at it
|
| There’s not that much too see
|
| And all the time you’re wondering
|
| About refunds and the beach.
|
| They watch themselves uneasily
|
| Changing the chairs around
|
| And you decide to watch it all
|
| From the helicopter pound.
|
| Waiting for the siege
|
| And I’m sitting by the walls
|
| Everything you wanted
|
| Could be coming true
|
| There’s boxes over there
|
| And a pile of trees
|
| Too many records
|
| And I’m falling asleep.
|
| Waiting for the siege and I’m staring at you
|
| Everything you wanted
|
| Must be coming true
|
| I’m looking out for anything
|
| There’s more too choose
|
| Hiding in the moat
|
| And trying on your shoes
|
| Waiting for the siege
|
| And I’m waiting for the post
|
| Everything you wanted
|
| Must be coming true
|
| There’s boxes in the fields
|
| And you saw the lights
|
| Everything you wanted
|
| Could be all right. |