In city shoes of clueless blues Pays the views and no man's news Blades will fade from blood to sport The heroin's cut these fuses short Smokers rode a colonial pig Drink and frame, this pain I think I'm melting silver poles my dear You bleed your wings and then disappear The moving scenes and pilot lights Smithereens have got 'em scaling heights Modern times come talk me down And battle lines are drawn across this town Parisian boys without your names Ghetto stones instead of chains Talk 'em down 'cause it's up in flames And nothing's changed Parisian boys without your names Riot like 1968 again The days of rage, yeah, nothing's changed Well pretty flames In school, I would just bite my tongue And now your words, they strike me down The flags are false and they contradict They point and click which wounds to lick On avenues, this Christian breeze Turns its heart to more needles please Our eyes roll back and we beg for more It frays this skin and then underscore The case for war you spin and bleed The cells you fill screen savers feed The girls you breed, the soaps that you write The graceless charm of your gutter snipes The moving scenes and suburbanites And smithereens got 'em scaling heights Modern times come talk me down The battle lines are drawn across this town English boys without your names Ghetto stones instead of chains Hearts and minds, and U.S. planes Nothing's changed And English boys without your names Riot like the 1980's again The days of rage, yeah, nothing's changed More pretty flames © BMG MUSIC PUBLISHING LTD; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com