| You take back the curse, but the world just gets worse | |
| As you wonder about how someone could become | |
| So fat and so proud off the damage they've done. | |
| Man, the damage was fun. | |
| A house is a home. | |
| Hotels made of skin and bone hold us. | |
| Father figures continue to scold us. | |
| Avuncular-at-best in a church of new things. | |
| He traded the records for rings | |
| As I sat back and watched what | |
| I thought would ensue | |
| Not ensue. | |
| Hospitals overflow | |
| With singers, embittered and pissed. | |
| Dead-ringers for men whose whereabouts should not be known | |
| Or be missed. | |
| No failed revolts, | |
| No plot from the inside | |
| Could contend with the prospect or trend towards being discovered before our time. | |
| With upwards of thirty songs | |
| All about women and children | |
| Whose lives will come second to mine. | |
| You take back the curse, but the girl just gets | |
| Every rip-off artist to paint a picture of a world at war | |
| When the world was not at war. | |
| When the world was not at war. | |
| When the world was not at war. | |
| Oh, when the world was not at war |
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