| Breath and burning
|
| We are made of sand
|
| Slowly turning
|
| At the wave’s command
|
| And what does it matter
|
| That the nightmares all came true?
|
| The black clouds have scattered across the sky
|
| And there’s nothing left we can do
|
| But celebrate while the hurricane
|
| Throws salt and water into the room
|
| The canary died, the healer lied
|
| The yellow fields disappeared too soon
|
| Mid-air voltage blooms and grows
|
| Unstoppable, its instant heat
|
| And as sinners plea on bended knee
|
| We’ll be dancing here for days!
|
| Breath and burning
|
| We are made of sand
|
| Slowly turning
|
| At the wave’s command
|
| And what does it matter
|
| That the end’s in sight?
|
| We’re not going gently
|
| We’re gonna rage with Page at the dying of the light, hey!
|
| The sudden unexpected fate
|
| Of sunken ships, was our future path
|
| Your string of beads did nothing to
|
| Prepare for you what was sure to pass
|
| Shadow wheels in shipping lanes
|
| The angry winds blew straight from Hell
|
| And the tortoise pulls its head inside its shell
|
| Breath and burning
|
| We are made of sand
|
| Slowly turning
|
| At the wave’s command
|
| And what does it matter?
|
| It’ll be over soon
|
| Our heads' on a platter
|
| So let’s spin in the light of the moon
|
| We’ve still got the light of the moon
|
| We’ll dance in the light of the moon, hey! |