White Light Riot. Tin Soldiers. Zeneszám

A needless affair
Lines remain unclear
Minds in the wells
Heads cut on cables
The fare to the sun
It sears the faultless ones
Pay any price
To go home
To go home

You march, march, march
Drag us around, muzzle the mouths
Left parched, parched, parched
Drinking in dust
Choking it down
Oh it?s misled, half-price circus you run

Notice in time
That motives are aligned
An evident crime
Weighs upon our eyes
And left in awe with hanging jaws
Is that all we are, is that all we are?
The terminal speech
Exceeding our reach
And all that we can do is wave

You march, march, march
Drag us around, muzzle the mouths
Left parched, parched, parched
Drinking in dust
Choking it down
Oh it?s misled, half-price circus you run

Wait and see
That?s some intrepid feat
A failed repeat
Is that a legacy?
Wait and see
That?s some intrepid feat
A failed repeat

You march, march, march
Drag us around, muzzle the mouths
Left parched, parched, parched
Drinking in dust
Choking it down
Oh it?s misled, half-price circus you run