They don't wanna get their heads bashed in By the men with the flags hung over their backs She don't wanna get her head bashed in  By the men with the flags hung over their backs  He don't wanna get his head bashed...

Sundial across water to the dark hills seeking solace in solstice rhymes and sunken Heavens beneath my feet   Hope slowly swims as dementia moving softly upstream promenade lights enfold into lighthouse wombs, not everything born has to shine   Dark clouds hang as an executioner's smile across harbour...

The silly minutesrage by like afalling cuckoo clock.Dilapidated dreams arebent and burnt likeautumn leaves.Fuck the cliches.Time hurts, like agaping wound.Hold it close, andvalue every precioussecond.