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The Burning City Smoking

Forty million refugees with no place on this earth to call there home

One for every aimless graduate with nothing else to show for it but loans

And those of us who make our mark use someone else's blood

Our western stain won't wash away, it won't vanish in the flood

It seeps deeper through each hurricane and tidal wave and war

Oh woah oh oh

We want everything we see and once it's gone we just want moreAtlas had those shoulders, we've got Ambien and Jameson's and blow

To bind us in a bubble and keep the newsprint nightmare distant and remote

But when we wake in gulitines and pitch our screaming fits

When the govenor strikes up the band and gags our parted lips

When the worst case shows up dressed and dazzling, ready for the ball

Oh woah oh oh

But that bubbles bound to burst and what a tragic way to fallThe tabloids tell us hate

The rat who strikes those subways closed and put's you out

Forget those fifty hour tunnel weeks

Inhaling steel dust poison through his mouth

Well if he don't deserve a pension it makes his family feel secure

If we're now so dissconected it's our reflections we ignore

And if our constant choice is skimming past the writing on the wall

Oh woah oh oh

Then I'm sad to say we're lost and I'm embarrassed for us allSo most days I can't put to rest the burning city smoking in my mind

And I play and pretend the principles are nothin' more than actors runnin' lines

And I stumble through a movie set where tourtered victims laugh

And embedded journalists who juggle knives and daggered glass

While they entertain a mob of heads of state and CEO's

Oh woah oh oh

I stagger past anarchist extras through saloon doors painted gold

Songwriters

KEVIN PATRICK DEVINEPublished by

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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