Here come the waterworks, about as late as those trains
But we still missed the last one out of time
To tell the truth I wouldn’t wanna know where it goes at this point
‘Cause we are well past nineteen-thirty-fucking-nine
And I don’t really trust your sense of direction anymore
‘Cause look what your plan got us all into
The spark of two rocks would make a sounder judgment than you
So I think I’ll take the rocks, thank you

They paved the road over with very obvious intentions
The disenfranchised waver under hydraulic pressure
Some victory for the triple-glazed and triple-locked
And all those temporarily embarrassed
Strapped to the gills with thought terminators
Ask for steak in the jungle, you’ll go far
You’re all lone wolves acting in nobody’s interest at all
Well, fuck you and fuck your fucking pensions too

All I’ve got to spare’s a bright red shipping container
Full of surprise homemade humble pie
But that one sunk straight to the bottom of the Strait of Hormuz
So you’ll have to fish around hellfire to find it
For cannon fodder acting like the last line of defense
Mister wartime updates from News Throb XL
I know it’s no fun living through the end stage, mate
But you’re about as much use as tartan paint

Sometimes two seconds are longer than thirty
But I had made the choice even sooner
As the train to Misanthropica trickled away
I hopped aboard and held my head real low
Regretting every last sliver of good I did
If I could I’d replace it with poison
The landscape I pass by is grey and on fire
Europe is always a wonder

They paved the road over with very obvious intentions
The disenfranchised waver under hydraulic pressure
The thought terminators are strapped to the gills
With double-barrel twenty-gauge vertical vids
And now the bailiffs are coming to take my will to live
Despite their parking spots making double their pay
Welcome to frown town, population: everyone
And not a single one cared to stop the flood of shit