| All hell’s crashing down inside
|
| The windows to the other side
|
| Shimmering in rooms to quiet sighs of
|
| 'Oh well if it’s happening there
|
| It isn’t here', and god appears to deal
|
| A different hand to different tiers
|
| But this play is not over yet
|
| Hear the music of those marionettes
|
| Beating drums down the quiet streets
|
| Of ignorance and vain regrets
|
| And all these fears swiftly come to pass
|
| Presently she feels we’re past
|
| Cups of tea and optimistic prayers
|
| Cos out there’s our unholy mess
|
| Gathering it’s long white dress
|
| And marching down aisle to marry this
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| Matrimonial future bliss
|
| Kiss the tide and hope it doesn’t lift up your
|
| Carpet woven from apathy and token frets
|
| All Hell!
|
| But this play is not over yet
|
| Hear the music of those marionettes
|
| Beating drums down the quiet streets
|
| Of ignorance and vain regrets |