Down in the valley where the veins don't go

And the tied up tigers smoke the dope

And dream of rope fuck with everything with a face

And the straight disgrace of a mission on a mountain

Of blood tracks to the Queen in a tower of money money money

Talking to the train tracks working for the

Wrong man dreaming of the perfect tan and the

Beautiful voices telling you what you are and

The death of poetry on the pages of a magazine

Strung out on the perfect set of genes

Chorus

Funny how the days slip by without a thought

In the mind or a moment of time with your feet

On the ground I know that this will come round

Such a beautiful thing that one day all of this

Will be gone

Nothing is sacred nothing is true

Nothing is blue and I don't mind what you do

'Cause my mind is my mind in spite of you

Chorus

Standing on a spaceship looking for life

Or a god or a gun or a matchbook telephone number

To the one who might love you or maybe...

Maybe....maybe....maybe....maybe....maybe....

Maybe it's time to close the line

And step outside and look for the great disaster

It must might be faster

To close this book myself

Chorus

Isn't it strange that we've come this far

And still dont' know who we are...

Chorus:

And I don't wanna be there

When it all comes crashing down

Somehow there's gonna be tomorrow

Somehow there's gonna be tomorrow

I know...I know...I know...all too well