| Lyrics: | Lift up your head, lift up your head
Your room in this decade of eathquake and bile
Awaits
you like a stewardess's mortuary smile
You'll miss all the fun, you'll miss all the
fun
A rich man turned pauper, his death marked [a sham]
I can't get back to see it, 'til you
lift up your head
Me and mine are fools, me and mine are fools
Say our elders who
despise us, though we're no longer young
They're tired of our sneering, and we've blocked out
their main street's sun
They're sleeping as we rise, one punch is drunk with
pride
Resides in [brutal face], sick from petrol smoke and [steak]
The few bohemians, with
their too-white shopping wrists
Confide in some crimson [page]
And pray to
look cute in their squalor-dyed hair
Old age
Rolled out of here, is sun bright and
clear
And we hold the fortune, in our cumulous
There's nothing else on earth that i will be
part of
Why waste a lifetime on soil which won't bear fruit?
And why argue with gangsters
who only smile and act mute?
If he pulls that trigger, as he says he must,
Then to them,
goes the last word [and then]
The sleep of the just, the sleep of the just, the sleep of the
just
But that's never enough
But that's never, never enough |
