|
Picture a bright blue ball just spinning, spinning free |
|
Dizzy with eternity |
|
Paint it with a skin of sky, brush in some clouds and sea |
|
Call it home for you and me |
|
A peaceful place or so it looks from space |
|
A closer look reveals the human race |
|
Full of hope, full of grace is the human face |
|
But afraid, we may lay our home to waste |
|
There's a fear down here we can't forget, hasn't got a name just yet |
|
Always awake, always around, singing ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
Now watch as the ball revolves and the nightime calls |
|
And again the hunt begins and again the bloodwind calls |
|
By and by again, the morning sun will rise |
|
The darkness never goes from some men's eyes |
|
Well you know it strolls the sidewalks and it rolls the streets |
|
Stalking turf, dividing up meat |
|
Nightmare spook, piece of heat, it's you and me, you and me |
|
Click, flashblade in ghetto night, Rudie's looking for a fight |
|
Rat cat alley roll them bones, need that cash to feed that Jones |
|
And the politicians throwing stones |
|
Singing ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
Commissars and pin-striped bosses role the dice |
|
Any way they fall guess who gets to pay the price? |
|
Money green or proletarian gray |
|
Selling guns instead of food today |
|
So the kids they dance, they shake their bones |
|
While the politicians throwing stones |
|
Singing ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
Heartless powers try to tell us what to think |
|
If the spirit's sleeping then the flesh is ink, yea |
|
History's page, it is thusly carved in stone |
|
The future's here, we are it, we are on our own |
|
On our own, on our own, on our own |
|
If the game is lost then we're all the same |
|
No one left to place or take the blame |
|
We will leave this place an empty stone |
|
For that shinning ball we can call our home |
|
So the kids they dance, they shake their bones |
|
And the politicians, throwing stones |
|
Singing ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
Shipping powders back and forth |
|
Singing, black goes South while white comes North |
|
And the whole world full of petty wars |
|
Singing I got mine and you got yours |
|
And the current fashions set the pace |
|
Lose your step, fall out of grace |
|
And the radical he rant and rage |
|
Singing someone got to turn the page |
|
And the rich man in his summer home |
|
Singing, just leave well enough alone |
|
But his pants are down, his cover's blown |
|
And the politicians are throwing stones |
|
So the kids they dance and shake their bones |
|
'Cause its all too clear we're on our own |
|
Singing ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
Singing ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
Picture a bright blue ball just spinning, spinning free |
|
It's dizzying, the possibilities |
|
Ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
Ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
Ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
Ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
All fall down, all fall down |
|
Singing ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
All fall down, all fall down |
|
Singing ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
Ashes, ashes all fall down |
|
Ashes, ashes all fall down |
