Sighs Of The Curator Lyrics

Sighs Of The Curator lyrics

set your wingtips on your soapbox, keep your conscience on my stash box (they'll
print your face on money)

put your jackboots on my voice box, keep them focused on hollow subplots
(they'll print your face on money)

give them something to wave, something to shoot, something well thought out to
refute

they want to see if we're brave or just empty boots

when the pig flies blind, double check for your name on the chute

this is everything we've got (we're going nowhere)

the lies you tell to yourself are the last ones caught

package scapegoats, smoke and stage lights: show off slit throats to get the
checks signed (they'll print your face on money)

there’s no devils, no evil- sublime, only pennies for the porcine (they'll
print your face on money)

give them shadows to blame, shadows to shoot

slogans sharp as a sunday suit

they’re gonna keep us afraid and eager to prove that a place in line’s
worth a wink and a wave at the truth

set your wingtips on your soapbox

you're on your own

they'll print your face on money

put your jackboots on my voice box