Post by nathann on Apr 5, 2014 3:39:33 GMT -5
for the new one
Okay so these lyrics are exactly how they appear in the liner notes (except for the spacing, which I added in).
PAGAN BABY
Baked into the crust, I'm comfy, reading eulogies.
You heard I was a nice boy; well, you didn't hear it from me.
I want to keep a hoodied head even when I'm asleep:
Because once a cave carried me away. Now I carry it with me.
It’s such a nice day, let’s stay inside.
It’s such a nice day; we’ve got a lot of time.
Nice Day.
Reading eulogies, I’m comfy, baked into the crust
You heard we were a good band; well, you didn’t hear it from us.
I want to keep my crooked life even if it means blood:
Because once I made a mistake so grave, now I’m crawling through the dirt for us.
If you want to start living, you’re going to have to leave me behind.
I’m a Pagan baby, and I’m staying indoors tonight.
You’re a Holy Walker. you’ve got a miracle that I want to buy.
I’m a Panting Monkey, running out of breath and out of your life.
Nice to meet you, now go away.
I want to be alone.
BRING US THE HEAD OF WEATHERBOX
When I woke up, I was toes-up, drifting along.
Lost my hard-drives, Earth was outside, I heard somebody call.
It's my Red One, my Flower Tongue. She sings to me again,
She sings,
"wake up!"
In the process of clearing cobwebs, I crossed a mighty line.
I, map-maker, space-time shaker. We laugh and we sing again...
We sing,
"Wake up!"
Our ship is miles wide, shaped from your designs.
Everyone is all here and we are nearing the cloud.
We've been waiting so long, we're glad to have you with us now
So go up to the deck, put a finger to your lips
and in the Quiet of Space, we will all stop and listen...
Tell us to hold tight,
shoot straight,
dip fast,
be safe...
And tell us to,
"Wake Up!"
THE FRESH PRINTS OF BILL AYERS
Coming through the fog, coming through the walls: coming for it.
Coming through the haze, coming through the shades: coming for it.
Coming from the past- Hark and Listen to the Humming!
Coming back at last- Listen through the Door in the Floor!
Coming from the past, coming back at last: coming for it.
Coming from the cave, coming from the grave: coming for it.
"...And I received a deleted memory of you and me,
on the run of a team of Sickening Police forever.
We used to have such fun together, do you remember?
We used to have such fun together, do you remember?"
I will paint my stories on the Gates of Light,
warning of my rain, my pouring on parades, my storming...
I will paint, I'll paint.
We'll have us hell of an adventure, through the folds, through the Black Hole Epicenters
We know magic: we're coming for it.
We pick pockets.
We're coming for it.
BATHIN' IN THE FUSS
While you're bathing in the sun of God, I'm in the shade,
trying to keep that shit out of my eyes, 'cause I'm insane.
I'm the ghost who caved but just wouldn't die and I just don't care.
When the Second Coming finally comes, I'm going to stay
on the earth while you all become one, because it's great.
There's a million things I need to get done and I'm almost there.
So smash me with bottles, make sure they're Molotov
and sue me for thinking Weatherbox was worth a shot.
Set fire to my statues, Épater la Bourgeoisie.
So if you want a revolution, you know that's alright with me.
Now, we've made it to the end of days.
Are you impressed that we managed to limp out of the way
of all the death and the damage without even a scrape? Just a scratch, I swear...
Because I'm all through with the trying, oh yeah, you better believe.
I had to chew through through the branches to get to the top of the tree,
but I'm through with the lying: I've got no more room up my sleeve.
So if your venue ain't paying, well that's alright with me.
Because I know you need money and I know times are tough
and I know you assume signed bands are well-taken care of.
New York's not as far from your small town as you think.
So when the bosses stop paying we gotta ask, "What's the point of these things?"
I acted brave during the bomb scare, but I was really scared to death.
I watched you spring for the button and choked on my baited breath.
So you can call me "ship-jumper" but your vessel is already sunk
and two years is too long to breathe underwater...
Set fire to my statues, Épater la Bourgeoisie,
because if you wanted a revolution, you know, that was alright with me
So spit on my casket, Épater la Bourgeoisie,
because if you wanted a revolution, you know, that was alright with me
So snort up my ashes, Épater la Bourgeoisie,
because if you wanted a revolution, you should have just come to me.
RADIO HIVE
Back when I was young, I heard a song.
It told me to have fun, but I couldn't do that.
I never could do that easy- I always freeze.
So I corner-crept, I bathroom-wept, lonely. Oh, poor me...
Now, when I drive through the radio hive, we turn each other off.
The message has changed from just bad to insane, but I keep my fingers crossed.
We'll be as good as gold.
We will get up follow because all you know is wrong; it's the radio I want.
It's all I know. It's gone.
We in the muck; so long!
And all you know is wrong; it's the radio I want. It's all I know.
I want to write the anti-hymn, something grim.
Yeah, such a disgustingly evil song, it makes the devil sing along.
Everyone says I've got to be good, something better.
Everyone says my head is stuck in the mud, but I don't care.
Slip me something; bring back the burning!
All you know is wrong, leave the road!
We pull off... we hammer on...
Hammer on!
We go to bed with nails and sweat right to rust.
Hammer on!
We know magic, we turn prophets back to dust.
Hammer on!
You best believe with only a hammer; we see nails all the time.
Hammer on!
You best believe with only a hammer we need to be crucified.
THE DEVIL AND WHOM?
Talking big on a train through an Empire town.
Glad to sneak through the beast of police siren sound.
Used to fights, used to flight, this is nice for now.
Two bags of light back again in an Empire town.
I came to cure, so now you know I keeps my word.
Darkest are the things we've done, the things we'll do.
Arrow true, I protects you...
But I took the drug.
I took the drug and I drugged it down.
It folded, it bent my brains into a crown
to a place on my head at the end of my life.
Or who knows? Maybe just the end of tonight.
Or who knows? Maybe I have already died.
So I drift along...
I drift along. I lost the war.
I throw out my crown. I'll sing no more.
But just as the swamp sucks The Crown down its throat,
there's a snap and it's magically back in my boat.
A flash in the sky is what's catching my eye.
A tear drops from space in a heavenly spike.
The irony doesn't escape me tonight
There's no one there, but the Devil and I.
A flash in the sky...
What's catching my eye is a flash in the sky.
The flash is a man falling down through the night.
The man should be panicked: the man's hands are tied.
The man grabs two handfuls of Thunder and Light.
The man's limbs come loose in a burst, holy bright.
The chains turn to flames and the smoke turns to flies.
They called it a fall and they all were half-right.
My hands had to clap. The Miraculous Dive.
No splash. He vanishes silent.
Just circles, moving out from a point, but the swamp is glowing.
From the depths, I hear a voice;
singing an old song; turning my blues on.
"Hey Kid-I-Call-No-Shoes, why are you waiting around?
We must get going through the doors we came through.
Back to what-went-wrong, back to the mansion."
There's no one there, but the Devil and I.
DARK ALL NIGHT FOR US
Home is where your hammock is hung.
It's where your sandwich hands hold your mate.
Don't suffocate your lungs, hoping to be forever young.
You can't make art in a vacuum state or become something great alone.
You need a friend to depend on.
You need a moon to reflect your light or it's dark all night for us.
Dark all night for us!
So, when you give in, don't give up;
there's never next time for better luck.
It's crime to accept that kind of talk.
So lead me to water and watch me walk.
I'll put a circle into your crops,
heal blind,
bare feet,
make wine,
hang cross...
Bare feet and hang cross!
They make Messiahs.
They can think higher than your puny thoughts.
They've never ever been sad.
They're a curtain,
they're hiding certain twists in the plot to keep you within their grasp.
And you're hooked!
You're just a page in the book.
Your attention's piqued and you drool at the edge of your seat.
We were a pox on the lobe of their hive brain.
We spun them like a globe.
We were a box, we were cured,
we were stripped of the compass, for sure...
When I say home, I mean the-Planet-I'm-From.
I mean, the tandem moons hung at night.
Who needs sunlight at all?
So, keep them cornered until I call.
We dip fast, we leave this blue ball
and saw their crooked grins from their crooked jaws. Haha!
They retreat now: we creeped them out.
Yeah, they're retreating now.
Young thing, you're sickly.
We are remedies!
Young thing, are you hurt?
We are elixirs!
Yeah, you and me?
Yeah, you and me!
You and me, Anti-(Bodies).
You and me, antibodies.
DRAG OUT
Don't freeze me in weak little frames,
don't picture me perfect because I don't look so great.
I won't hack a hedge in the maze.
I won't find myself until I look in the last place.
Last place?
Last prize?
Last ditch?
That's mine.
Drag out, past life.
That's it, last time...
I'd give "mine" to be an "us."
I'd give "mine" to just be "us."
I'd give "mine" to be "just us."
I'd give "mine" to be "just."
You won't find a band like mine; we don't stay mad.
You won't find a band like mine; we don't stay, no.
You left me a mess on the ground.
You laughed at my body, but who's that laughing now?
I've gathered a massive amount.
We're after you and there is nothing left to drag out.
Past life?
Last ditch?
That's mine.
Drag out last rites,
That's it, last time?
One more time...
Maybe magic don't come back, don't come back.
Come back, come back.
THE DRONES
Brace yourself For Clamping Shackles,
For Nasty Weather For Your Friends Breaching Your Nucleus.
Prepare For Turbulence. Prepare For Nuclear Winds.
We Gotta Go High. We Gotta Go. Are You Ready Or Not?
Magic Carpet!
We Gotta Go. Hold The Line. Blow The Speaker.
Magic Carpet!
We Gotta Go, Gotta Float Through The Ether.
The Change, The Masks, The Smash, The Crab,
The Loss Of The Sting. The Vessels Shattering...
GHOST MALLS
Three Days of Bad Urges, Three Nights of Black Curtains.
Three Days of Bright Chases. Three Nights of White Satan.
I Got a White Satan, A Great White Satan.
Been Through a Few Whirlwinds With You.
We're a Mess. We Make Do.
KICKFLIPS
Don't let me through the gate.
My body is a cage for something explosive.
My body is a bomb.
I'm a big old bag of bombs.
Caged again, I couldn't lie.
I made this happen and everybody goes and got unbroken.
But I cannot pop locks: bust me open.
Everybody's gone.
Everybody's moving along.
Welcome to What-Went-Wrong.
welcome to Where-I'm-From.
I'm going through the gate.
I exit fire escape.
I was an explosive.
My body was a bomb.
I was something explosive.
My body was a bomb.
My body was a bomb.
I was a big old bag of bombs.
My body is a bomb.
I'm a big old bag of bombs.
Everybody's on.
Everybody's coming along.
Welcome to Where-I'm-From.
THE LAST WHITE LIGHTER
You wake in a home.
You assume it is your own.
A hazy head, but a comfy bed.
Nothing seems wrong.
You make moans.
You put your trousers on.
You walk the path, you do the math,
wonder where the time's gone.
You forget to care.
New faces everywhere.
I watch you fact-check, try to recollect.
There's nothing there.
I kick the earth.
I shake and cry and curse.
It's my fault now,
I sold you out.
I'm the last White Lighter.
No? No!
Got the book bound,
encoded sound,
in the Dead House,
I won't let you down.
Down with their trash!
Up with our flag!
I got you back.
You draw your first new map.
Me and you and our four dimensions,
drifting through the space-time continuum.
Glad to be here with you, my friend.
Follow me into oblivion!
And we know there's big and bad things waiting for us.
At least we're no longer lost, we have the compass.
We are flags dancing now.
Hoist us up.
Safe in the clouds,
we are the White Lighters.
LOVE ME A GOOD MICROCOSM
I'll be the bright, white light at the end of the road,
letting everybody know that they are almost back home.
I'll be the bright, white light at the end of the road,
letting everybody know that it is time to go home.
Oh yeah, it's time to go home...
Oh, I wonder what it would be like to believe in the Afterlife.
I'd probably smile every time I sang.
I'd probably gun around town, shouting some obscure ancient man's name.
Oh, I don't believe in the Afterlife.
I believe there's a thing called a gun and there are things called knives
I believe they can destroy everything that you are inside.
I believe nothing escapes once they decide.
I know it's not easy being green,
orbiting the biggest star in the galaxy, me.
You're just a moon, you shine through, but you reflect me too.
You're just a moon. When you die, two more will be born to project through.
But when my supernova hits, maybe you will escape it.
Yeah, when I supernova split, maybe you will escape it.
Yeah, when I supernova split, maybe you will escape it
and you can tell the tale of the flame, who up and changed his name.
You can tell them how super I became.
Yeah, you can tell them what it sounded like when I fried the final brain.
Because you can glorify the Old Pages and be responsible for the New Cages
or you can say "to hell with me" and you can get creative...
So, yeah, 666, you can call me a Beast.
But dial 666, when you decide it's time to come back and talk to me.
I'll be waiting in the clouds.
I've been shaping them into our new house.
When I hear the doorbell, I'll run and cover up my sulfur smell,
untangle my hair, hood my horns to greet you.
Don't look up at them, look at what's underneath you:
we're in the clouds.
We're in the clouds, right above Jerusalem.
Don't mind the flies. Baby, you'll get used to them.
I'll be the bright white light at the end of the show,
letting everybody know that it is time to go home.
Oh yeah, it's time to go home...
PAGAN BABY
Baked into the crust, I'm comfy, reading eulogies.
You heard I was a nice boy; well, you didn't hear it from me.
I want to keep a hoodied head even when I'm asleep:
Because once a cave carried me away. Now I carry it with me.
It’s such a nice day, let’s stay inside.
It’s such a nice day; we’ve got a lot of time.
Nice Day.
Reading eulogies, I’m comfy, baked into the crust
You heard we were a good band; well, you didn’t hear it from us.
I want to keep my crooked life even if it means blood:
Because once I made a mistake so grave, now I’m crawling through the dirt for us.
If you want to start living, you’re going to have to leave me behind.
I’m a Pagan baby, and I’m staying indoors tonight.
You’re a Holy Walker. you’ve got a miracle that I want to buy.
I’m a Panting Monkey, running out of breath and out of your life.
Nice to meet you, now go away.
I want to be alone.
BRING US THE HEAD OF WEATHERBOX
When I woke up, I was toes-up, drifting along.
Lost my hard-drives, Earth was outside, I heard somebody call.
It's my Red One, my Flower Tongue. She sings to me again,
She sings,
"wake up!"
In the process of clearing cobwebs, I crossed a mighty line.
I, map-maker, space-time shaker. We laugh and we sing again...
We sing,
"Wake up!"
Our ship is miles wide, shaped from your designs.
Everyone is all here and we are nearing the cloud.
We've been waiting so long, we're glad to have you with us now
So go up to the deck, put a finger to your lips
and in the Quiet of Space, we will all stop and listen...
Tell us to hold tight,
shoot straight,
dip fast,
be safe...
And tell us to,
"Wake Up!"
THE FRESH PRINTS OF BILL AYERS
Coming through the fog, coming through the walls: coming for it.
Coming through the haze, coming through the shades: coming for it.
Coming from the past- Hark and Listen to the Humming!
Coming back at last- Listen through the Door in the Floor!
Coming from the past, coming back at last: coming for it.
Coming from the cave, coming from the grave: coming for it.
"...And I received a deleted memory of you and me,
on the run of a team of Sickening Police forever.
We used to have such fun together, do you remember?
We used to have such fun together, do you remember?"
I will paint my stories on the Gates of Light,
warning of my rain, my pouring on parades, my storming...
I will paint, I'll paint.
We'll have us hell of an adventure, through the folds, through the Black Hole Epicenters
We know magic: we're coming for it.
We pick pockets.
We're coming for it.
BATHIN' IN THE FUSS
While you're bathing in the sun of God, I'm in the shade,
trying to keep that shit out of my eyes, 'cause I'm insane.
I'm the ghost who caved but just wouldn't die and I just don't care.
When the Second Coming finally comes, I'm going to stay
on the earth while you all become one, because it's great.
There's a million things I need to get done and I'm almost there.
So smash me with bottles, make sure they're Molotov
and sue me for thinking Weatherbox was worth a shot.
Set fire to my statues, Épater la Bourgeoisie.
So if you want a revolution, you know that's alright with me.
Now, we've made it to the end of days.
Are you impressed that we managed to limp out of the way
of all the death and the damage without even a scrape? Just a scratch, I swear...
Because I'm all through with the trying, oh yeah, you better believe.
I had to chew through through the branches to get to the top of the tree,
but I'm through with the lying: I've got no more room up my sleeve.
So if your venue ain't paying, well that's alright with me.
Because I know you need money and I know times are tough
and I know you assume signed bands are well-taken care of.
New York's not as far from your small town as you think.
So when the bosses stop paying we gotta ask, "What's the point of these things?"
I acted brave during the bomb scare, but I was really scared to death.
I watched you spring for the button and choked on my baited breath.
So you can call me "ship-jumper" but your vessel is already sunk
and two years is too long to breathe underwater...
Set fire to my statues, Épater la Bourgeoisie,
because if you wanted a revolution, you know, that was alright with me
So spit on my casket, Épater la Bourgeoisie,
because if you wanted a revolution, you know, that was alright with me
So snort up my ashes, Épater la Bourgeoisie,
because if you wanted a revolution, you should have just come to me.
RADIO HIVE
Back when I was young, I heard a song.
It told me to have fun, but I couldn't do that.
I never could do that easy- I always freeze.
So I corner-crept, I bathroom-wept, lonely. Oh, poor me...
Now, when I drive through the radio hive, we turn each other off.
The message has changed from just bad to insane, but I keep my fingers crossed.
We'll be as good as gold.
We will get up follow because all you know is wrong; it's the radio I want.
It's all I know. It's gone.
We in the muck; so long!
And all you know is wrong; it's the radio I want. It's all I know.
I want to write the anti-hymn, something grim.
Yeah, such a disgustingly evil song, it makes the devil sing along.
Everyone says I've got to be good, something better.
Everyone says my head is stuck in the mud, but I don't care.
Slip me something; bring back the burning!
All you know is wrong, leave the road!
We pull off... we hammer on...
Hammer on!
We go to bed with nails and sweat right to rust.
Hammer on!
We know magic, we turn prophets back to dust.
Hammer on!
You best believe with only a hammer; we see nails all the time.
Hammer on!
You best believe with only a hammer we need to be crucified.
THE DEVIL AND WHOM?
Talking big on a train through an Empire town.
Glad to sneak through the beast of police siren sound.
Used to fights, used to flight, this is nice for now.
Two bags of light back again in an Empire town.
I came to cure, so now you know I keeps my word.
Darkest are the things we've done, the things we'll do.
Arrow true, I protects you...
But I took the drug.
I took the drug and I drugged it down.
It folded, it bent my brains into a crown
to a place on my head at the end of my life.
Or who knows? Maybe just the end of tonight.
Or who knows? Maybe I have already died.
So I drift along...
I drift along. I lost the war.
I throw out my crown. I'll sing no more.
But just as the swamp sucks The Crown down its throat,
there's a snap and it's magically back in my boat.
A flash in the sky is what's catching my eye.
A tear drops from space in a heavenly spike.
The irony doesn't escape me tonight
There's no one there, but the Devil and I.
A flash in the sky...
What's catching my eye is a flash in the sky.
The flash is a man falling down through the night.
The man should be panicked: the man's hands are tied.
The man grabs two handfuls of Thunder and Light.
The man's limbs come loose in a burst, holy bright.
The chains turn to flames and the smoke turns to flies.
They called it a fall and they all were half-right.
My hands had to clap. The Miraculous Dive.
No splash. He vanishes silent.
Just circles, moving out from a point, but the swamp is glowing.
From the depths, I hear a voice;
singing an old song; turning my blues on.
"Hey Kid-I-Call-No-Shoes, why are you waiting around?
We must get going through the doors we came through.
Back to what-went-wrong, back to the mansion."
There's no one there, but the Devil and I.
DARK ALL NIGHT FOR US
Home is where your hammock is hung.
It's where your sandwich hands hold your mate.
Don't suffocate your lungs, hoping to be forever young.
You can't make art in a vacuum state or become something great alone.
You need a friend to depend on.
You need a moon to reflect your light or it's dark all night for us.
Dark all night for us!
So, when you give in, don't give up;
there's never next time for better luck.
It's crime to accept that kind of talk.
So lead me to water and watch me walk.
I'll put a circle into your crops,
heal blind,
bare feet,
make wine,
hang cross...
Bare feet and hang cross!
They make Messiahs.
They can think higher than your puny thoughts.
They've never ever been sad.
They're a curtain,
they're hiding certain twists in the plot to keep you within their grasp.
And you're hooked!
You're just a page in the book.
Your attention's piqued and you drool at the edge of your seat.
We were a pox on the lobe of their hive brain.
We spun them like a globe.
We were a box, we were cured,
we were stripped of the compass, for sure...
When I say home, I mean the-Planet-I'm-From.
I mean, the tandem moons hung at night.
Who needs sunlight at all?
So, keep them cornered until I call.
We dip fast, we leave this blue ball
and saw their crooked grins from their crooked jaws. Haha!
They retreat now: we creeped them out.
Yeah, they're retreating now.
Young thing, you're sickly.
We are remedies!
Young thing, are you hurt?
We are elixirs!
Yeah, you and me?
Yeah, you and me!
You and me, Anti-(Bodies).
You and me, antibodies.
DRAG OUT
Don't freeze me in weak little frames,
don't picture me perfect because I don't look so great.
I won't hack a hedge in the maze.
I won't find myself until I look in the last place.
Last place?
Last prize?
Last ditch?
That's mine.
Drag out, past life.
That's it, last time...
I'd give "mine" to be an "us."
I'd give "mine" to just be "us."
I'd give "mine" to be "just us."
I'd give "mine" to be "just."
You won't find a band like mine; we don't stay mad.
You won't find a band like mine; we don't stay, no.
You left me a mess on the ground.
You laughed at my body, but who's that laughing now?
I've gathered a massive amount.
We're after you and there is nothing left to drag out.
Past life?
Last ditch?
That's mine.
Drag out last rites,
That's it, last time?
One more time...
Maybe magic don't come back, don't come back.
Come back, come back.
THE DRONES
Brace yourself For Clamping Shackles,
For Nasty Weather For Your Friends Breaching Your Nucleus.
Prepare For Turbulence. Prepare For Nuclear Winds.
We Gotta Go High. We Gotta Go. Are You Ready Or Not?
Magic Carpet!
We Gotta Go. Hold The Line. Blow The Speaker.
Magic Carpet!
We Gotta Go, Gotta Float Through The Ether.
The Change, The Masks, The Smash, The Crab,
The Loss Of The Sting. The Vessels Shattering...
GHOST MALLS
Three Days of Bad Urges, Three Nights of Black Curtains.
Three Days of Bright Chases. Three Nights of White Satan.
I Got a White Satan, A Great White Satan.
Been Through a Few Whirlwinds With You.
We're a Mess. We Make Do.
KICKFLIPS
Don't let me through the gate.
My body is a cage for something explosive.
My body is a bomb.
I'm a big old bag of bombs.
Caged again, I couldn't lie.
I made this happen and everybody goes and got unbroken.
But I cannot pop locks: bust me open.
Everybody's gone.
Everybody's moving along.
Welcome to What-Went-Wrong.
welcome to Where-I'm-From.
I'm going through the gate.
I exit fire escape.
I was an explosive.
My body was a bomb.
I was something explosive.
My body was a bomb.
My body was a bomb.
I was a big old bag of bombs.
My body is a bomb.
I'm a big old bag of bombs.
Everybody's on.
Everybody's coming along.
Welcome to Where-I'm-From.
THE LAST WHITE LIGHTER
You wake in a home.
You assume it is your own.
A hazy head, but a comfy bed.
Nothing seems wrong.
You make moans.
You put your trousers on.
You walk the path, you do the math,
wonder where the time's gone.
You forget to care.
New faces everywhere.
I watch you fact-check, try to recollect.
There's nothing there.
I kick the earth.
I shake and cry and curse.
It's my fault now,
I sold you out.
I'm the last White Lighter.
No? No!
Got the book bound,
encoded sound,
in the Dead House,
I won't let you down.
Down with their trash!
Up with our flag!
I got you back.
You draw your first new map.
Me and you and our four dimensions,
drifting through the space-time continuum.
Glad to be here with you, my friend.
Follow me into oblivion!
And we know there's big and bad things waiting for us.
At least we're no longer lost, we have the compass.
We are flags dancing now.
Hoist us up.
Safe in the clouds,
we are the White Lighters.
LOVE ME A GOOD MICROCOSM
I'll be the bright, white light at the end of the road,
letting everybody know that they are almost back home.
I'll be the bright, white light at the end of the road,
letting everybody know that it is time to go home.
Oh yeah, it's time to go home...
Oh, I wonder what it would be like to believe in the Afterlife.
I'd probably smile every time I sang.
I'd probably gun around town, shouting some obscure ancient man's name.
Oh, I don't believe in the Afterlife.
I believe there's a thing called a gun and there are things called knives
I believe they can destroy everything that you are inside.
I believe nothing escapes once they decide.
I know it's not easy being green,
orbiting the biggest star in the galaxy, me.
You're just a moon, you shine through, but you reflect me too.
You're just a moon. When you die, two more will be born to project through.
But when my supernova hits, maybe you will escape it.
Yeah, when I supernova split, maybe you will escape it.
Yeah, when I supernova split, maybe you will escape it
and you can tell the tale of the flame, who up and changed his name.
You can tell them how super I became.
Yeah, you can tell them what it sounded like when I fried the final brain.
Because you can glorify the Old Pages and be responsible for the New Cages
or you can say "to hell with me" and you can get creative...
So, yeah, 666, you can call me a Beast.
But dial 666, when you decide it's time to come back and talk to me.
I'll be waiting in the clouds.
I've been shaping them into our new house.
When I hear the doorbell, I'll run and cover up my sulfur smell,
untangle my hair, hood my horns to greet you.
Don't look up at them, look at what's underneath you:
we're in the clouds.
We're in the clouds, right above Jerusalem.
Don't mind the flies. Baby, you'll get used to them.
I'll be the bright white light at the end of the show,
letting everybody know that it is time to go home.
Oh yeah, it's time to go home...
