Like tin angels falling down
This ragged town protects them to the last
From some old dried up, fried forgotten town
From some old dried up, fried forgotten town
All the records from the past
Like a mission and we're halfway there
Why
From some old dried up, fried forgotten town
Deem
Hold for ransom all the artifacts
With lies lies lies lies
Homeward to Seattle
Of some old front we call 'The war of art'
Won't they let us be ourselves?
Light light light light
All the liars in your tribe
And show the bastards up with our divine
Rain
To be the fires on the western side
Like a mission and we're halfway there
With our potential we could toe the line
See them running heading
Seize