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
Tell my mother I’m going home, I have been destroyed by hippie powers
Here’s to you, Nicola and Bart
Rest forever here in our hearts
The last and final moment is yours
That agony is your triumph