| Here’s to the day when all the skies turned white
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| Warm powder coated parking lots, familiar thoughts
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| Most higher forms of life
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| And all the commotion must have scared away the sun
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| But not before it took its vengeance on us all
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| The idiots with the vacuum switch left us behind
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| Repeat again, they got it all and gave back nothing
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| Yeah, another anthem subterranean resides right beneath 1945
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| With my arms glued securely to my sides
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| All that I can do is yell my guts dry
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| Buttons and citizens left red and depressed
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| Countdowns and businessmen all dressed up
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| Dead inside and it’s gone. |
| It’s all gone
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| New cultures built of dirt and flames
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| Look to the sky and point to blame us all
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| While the men have gone away to fight
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| The innocent huddle in the cool pacific moonlight
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| Shadows of this place softly congregate
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| But never show their faces to the other monster races
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| Yeah, another anthem subterranean resides right beneath 1945
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| Walking streets hidden underneath the streets
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| Whiffing ash and metal, this time we’re left behind
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| We’re left behind
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| So now we sing the new refrain
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| We sing sub-terrain, sub-terrain, sub-terrain |