Тональность: A minor•
Intro 1
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Verse 1
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An address to the golden door
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I was strumming on a stone again
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Pulling teeth from the pimps of gore
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A tragic opera in my mind
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And it told of a new design
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in which every soul is duty bound
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To uphold all the statutes of boredom
Verse 2
Therein lies the fatal flaw of the red
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(age) 'Cause it was nothing like
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Our lust for life had gone away
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with the rent we hated
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'Cause it made no money,
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nobody saved no one's life this time
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So we burned all our uniforms
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And let nature take its course again
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And the big ones just eat all the little ones
That sends us back to the
Solo 1
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(drawing board)
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Bridge 1
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In our darkest hours
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We have all asked for some
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Sprinkle his dust all around
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But all our crying voices
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they can't turn it around
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And you've had some crazy conversations
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of your own
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Verse 3
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We've got rules and maps
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and guns in our backs
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But we still can't just behave ourselves
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Even if to save our own lives
So says I
We are a brutal
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kind
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Whoa
Verse 4
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'Cause this is nothing like we'd ever dreamt
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Tell Sir Thomas More
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we've got another failed attempt
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'Cause if it makes them money
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They might just give you life this time
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