The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on (x4)
With a pen in one hand, taking us and burned on kerosine Headed for a fire would find us something to believe Wallowing round with dirty hands on wires Singing songs in dischord choirs Screaming in brail, no temptress prize could ever yield anything so real
The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on (x2)
Golden soldiers born much older than they'll ever live to be Diving into a sea of hands in a long forgotten city When the rain falls ever after the swinging vines hang dead in rafters Blood rush to (here?) your head induces of laughter endlessly
The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on The original fire has died and long gone, but the riot inside moves on
Can't explain it, it was something to see Can't contain something so ever real Ever real
Can't explain it, it was something to see Can't contain something so ever real Ever real
The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on (x4)