Lord I must be dreaming, what else could this be Everybody's screamin',
runnin' for the sea Holy lands are sinkin', birds take to the sky The
prophets all are stinkin' drunk, I know the reason why Eyes are full of
desire, mind is so ill at ease Everything is on fire, shit piled up to the
knees
Out of rhyme or reason, everyone's to blame Children of the
season don't be lame Sorry, you're so sorry, don't be sorry Man has known
and now he's blown it upside down And hell's the only sound We did an
awful job and now they say it's nobody's fault
Old Saint Andres
seven years ago Shove it up their richters, red lights stop and
go Noblemen of courage listen with their ears Spoke but how discouragin'
when no one really hears One of these days you'll be sorry, too many houses
on the stilt Three million years or just a story, four on the floor up to
the hilt
Out of rhyme or reason, everyone's to blame Children of
the season don't be lame Sorry, you're so sorry, don't be sorry Man has
known and now he's blown it upside down And hell's the only sound We did
an awful job and now we're just a little too late
Eyes are full of
desire, mind is so ill at ease Everything is on fire, shit piled up to the
knees
California showtime, 5 o'clocks the news Said everybody's
concubine was prone to take a snooze
Sorry, you're so sorry, don't
be sorry Man has known and now he's blown it upside down And hell's the
only sound We did an awful job and now we're just a little too late