The Triumph Of Our Tired Eyes
Sisters and brothers
We have surely lost our way
In strip malls full of cancer
And a pathetic rain
Mother, sweet mother
Please don't discipline your hands
Just kiss me in the morning
In your dirtiest pants
We will find our way
We will find our way
There is beauty in this land
But I don't often see it
There is beauty in this land
But I don't often feel it
People are flowers
Musicians are cowards
Let's argue in the kitchen
For hours and hours
Tomorrow is a travesty
Tomorrow should be ours
Musicians are cowards
Musicians are cowards
Musicians are cowards
Musicians are cowards
Musicians are cowards
Musicians are cowards
Musicians are cowards
Musicians are cowards
The soldiers with their specialists
And the pigs with their guns cannot stop
The lost ones and the desperate ones and the driven ones
The soldiers with their cigarettes
And the pigs with their guns cannot stop
The lonesome ones and the desperate ones and the smart ones
So come on friends
To the barricades again
So come on friends
To the barricades again
So come on friends
To the barricades again
So come on friends
To the barricades again
We will find our way
We will find our way