BlindBlindBlind

The dust and the mess of our mornings
Promise this will never quit
So drunk, though our hands surely woven
Entire fleets of staggering ships
Now our ships line the floors of the ocean
And the oceans breaching the ridge
And the terrified dreams of our wanderings
That once lit our way are now hid

We want punks in the palace
'Cause punks got the loveliest dreams
And our gang is liquored and lovely
And smart and sweet and lean
And burned with a curious flame
That spits and kicks and shines
And trumpets the labor
Of waking and trying

There ain't none; sometimes there is
Banged and bitter, but cling to it
Power's the province of miserable pricks
There ain't none but sometimes there is

Policemen in parallel lines
Blind! Blind! Blind!
The broken bones of quivering pines
While empty waters rise
May the light of our striving still shine
Blind! Blind! Blind!
May the light of our striving still shine
And may the light of our striving still shine

Love the horse or leave the horse
Love the horse or leave the horse
Lover
Love the horse or leave the horse
Love the horse or leave the horse
Lover
Lover
Oh, lover
Oh, lover
Oh, lover
Goddamn you, lover
Some hearts are true!
And some hearts are true!
And some hearts are true!
And some hearts are true!
And some hearts are true!