There’s something happening here
But what it is ain’t exactly clear
There’s a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to beware
I think it’s time we stop
Children, what’s that sound?
As you tread your path through a jaundiced corridor
Where each day has no beginning and no end
There are those out here who claim to be so good
I suspect that Jesus holidayed in hell
He doesn’t look anything like Jesus at all
Your friend, the one that you loved
Did you keep him on your side?
Our friends say it’s darkest before the sun rises, we’re pretty sure they’re all wrong