Down in the valley where the veins don't go
And the tied up tigers smoke the dope
And dream of rope fuck with everything with a face
And the straight disgrace of a mission on a mountain
Of blood tracks to the Queen in a tower of money money money
Talking to the train tracks working for the
Wrong man dreaming of the perfect tan and the
Beautiful voices telling you what you are and
The death of poetry on the pages of a magazine
Strung out on the perfect set of genes
Chorus
Funny how the days slip by without a thought
In the mind or a moment of time with your feet
On the ground I know that this will come round
Such a beautiful thing that one day all of this
Will be gone
Nothing is sacred nothing is true
Nothing is blue and I don't mind what you do
'Cause my mind is my mind in spite of you
Chorus
Standing on a spaceship looking for life
Or a god or a gun or a matchbook telephone number
To the one who might love you or maybe...
Maybe....maybe....maybe....maybe....maybe....
Maybe it's time to close the line
And step outside and look for the great disaster
It must might be faster
To close this book myself
Chorus
Isn't it strange that we've come this far
And still dont' know who we are...
Chorus:
And I don't wanna be there
When it all comes crashing down
Somehow there's gonna be tomorrow
Somehow there's gonna be tomorrow
I know...I know...I know...all too well