All the latest toughs, youve got to shrug them off or shut them off.
With ten-thousand-time-told truths, youve still got to ask for proof.
Ask for proof, because if youre dying to be led theyll lead you up the hill in chains to their popular refrains
Until your slaughters been arranged, my little lamb, and its much too late to talk the knife out of their hands.
Well, I woke up on a foggy morning. Hiding from the sun, he was hiding from the sun.
But it came out and it shot its rays down. Burning everyone, it was burning everyone.
But they were dying, anyway, to turn to ash, to feel their feelings flash and finally fade away,
In a fabulous and fiery display.
Look, though, I dont know what notes you want to hear played,
I cant think what lines youd like me to sing or say, and Im not sure what subjects you want mentioned.
So pause and add your own intentions. Lets pause and add our own, lets pause and add our own intentions
All the latest toughs, well, we have seen that stuff,
And we have seen enough blood in dying coughs, which means that we have lost.
We have lost, and if youre crying to be tossed theyll toss you down the oubliette with all the old things that
You let yourself forget because youd like to love a star whod throw you down below the ground he thinks you are.