I've been awake for hours
As I watch a sunrise come over nothing
While outside the cars start racing
Searching for something we could never seem to find or afford
Maybe I owe the devil a little something
Just to keep things stable
Because last night I realized I was nothing more
than just a serpent for his plans
Chamberlain's waiting down at the bottom of the city of hell
Or heaven itself
As the whistle she sings
My hands building weapons for kings
While somebody's drinking my last rations of victory gin
I'm sober as sin
As my hands start to shake
I fill with post-modern debates
While Chamberlain's waiting
Build our mistakes to the clouds
Then blame us for dreaming out loud