The things we laid do not amount to much
made of abandoned wood loose stones and such


this revolution baby
proves who you work for lately


release the castaways who run amok
from self appointed winds which blow and such
when present tense gets strangled in the mire

made of our cozy decomposing wires

who do you work for baby

and does it work for you lately

but when the night is over and the walls start burning

when fire starts to matter and the clock is churning
cliches and other chatter keeps our minds from
learning


it's alright


the things we laid do not amount to much
made up of thought balloons and cotton swabs
when present tense gets strangled in the woes

made of our future foe scenarios

this revolution baby

proves who you work for lately
who do you work for baby
and does it work for you lately


but when the night is over and the walls keep linking
when fire starts to matter and the clock keeps sinking

cliches and other chatter keeps our minds from
thinking
our minds keep thinking


it's alright


that's when it turned on me
a motorcade of 'meant to be's'
parades of beauty queens

where soft entwines make kindling
these many detailed things
like broken nails and plastic rings

will win by keeping me
from speaking to my new darling
and there's no way to know

our future foe scenarios
that's when it turned on me
where bobby pins hold angel wings


it's alright