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Dance, locust, dance. |
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The prophets shrug their shoulders as |
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Calamity's child lost her head |
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In the bell of the trumpet's blast. |
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I know you just want to be on fire. |
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Jam, radio, jam. |
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Power to the pirate stations, |
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Broadcasting up through the flowery cracks in the pavement. |
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I know you just want to be on fire. |
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The good morning comes like a hit and run |
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With a marmalade sun for everyone. |
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I know you just want to be on fire. |
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Staring at the sun will only make you blind, |
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But a fiery glimpse is all you need sometimes. |
