the trees are burnt the grass is brown the sky turns red when the sun goes down
for all the tears in God’s green earth we haven’t cracked in this old town
’cause we’re holding on to youth and we’re stubborn to the tooth
the smell of dread and burning heads is a sure sign that you’re in town and we’re holding on to youth and we’re stubborn with the truth
here on the shores of the sea comes the end here on the floor on our knees comes the end here on the shoulders of these comes the end here when you replace me comes the end comes the end
here on the shores of the sea comes the end here on the floor on our knees comes the end here on the shoulders of these comes the end here when you replace me comes the end comes the end comes the end