on that day, they'll tell you
that life hummed on with no clue
the warning signs were all
dismissed or shouted down
so it goes
the kings all failed to tell us
the madmen failed to sell us
on what would then become
the only life we know
were they burning signal fires
to guide us to the fields?
or building funeral pyres?
the outcome of a final appeal
the city lines are down
the kerosene's run out
the fracturing of all we relied upon
lets shed this unclean skin
and start to feel again
because all the shoulders
on which to cry are gone
the paranoia gripped us
the rain turned engines to rust
the panic set in like a cancer to our hearts
spreading through
we bet on finite genius
or prayed for gods to save us
but there was no antidote
disease tore us apart
we left bodies in the fields
so numb that we forgot how to feel
the city lines are down
the kerosene's run out
the fracturing of all we relied upon
lets shed this unclean skin
and start to feel again
because all the shoulders
on which to cry are gone
he looked at the fields
and then his hands,
"All i need is what i have."
then shed a tear of happiness
she watched the world
crumble away
"is this the end of yesterday?"
"Lord, I hope so," is all he said
gone are the old guards
gone are the cold, cold wars
weightless we go forth
on wings of amnesty
the city lines are down
the kerosene's run out
the fracturing of all
we relied upon
lets shed this unclean skin
and start to feel again
there are no shoulders
shoulders to cry on now
no more
no more
the weight that we once felt is gone
