The things we laid do not amount to much made of abandoned wood loose stones and such
this revolution baby proves who you work for lately
release the castaways who run amok from self appointed winds which blow and such when present tense gets strangled in the mire made of our cozy decomposing wires
who do you work for baby and does it work for you lately
but when the night is over and the walls start burning when fire starts to matter and the clock is churning cliches and other chatter keeps our minds from learning
it's alright
the things we laid do not amount to much made up of thought balloons and cotton swabs when present tense gets strangled in the woes made of our future foe scenarios
this revolution baby proves who you work for lately who do you work for baby and does it work for you lately
but when the night is over and the walls keep linking when fire starts to matter and the clock keeps sinking cliches and other chatter keeps our minds from thinking our minds keep thinking
it's alright
that's when it turned on me a motorcade of 'meant to be's’ parades of beauty queens where soft entwines make kindling these many detailed things like broken nails and plastic rings will win by keeping me from speaking to my new darling and there's no way to know our future foe scenarios that's when it turned on me