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The sun is shining |
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We should be making hay |
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But we're dead from the waist down |
|
Like in California |
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Victory is empty |
|
there are lessons in defeat |
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But we're dead from the waist down |
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We are sleeping on our feet |
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We stole the songs from birds in trees |
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Bought our time on easy street |
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Now our paths they never meet |
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We chose to court and flatter greed, ego disposability |
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I caught a glimpse, and it's not me |
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Make hay not war |
|
Make hay not war |
|
Make hay not war |
|
Or else we're done for |
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And we're D from the W down |
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There's no contracts binding |
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No bad scene beyond repair |
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But when you're dead from the waist down |
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You're too far gone to even care |
|
We stole the songs from birds in trees |
|
Bought our time on easy street |
|
Now our paths they never meet |
|
We chose to court and flatter greed, ego disposability |
|
I caught a glimpse, and it's not me |
|
Make hay not war |
|
Make hay not war |
|
Make hay not war |
|
Or else we're done for |
|
And we're D from the W down |
|
The sun is shining...(to fade) |
