Hands Down In Your Pockets

A flower turns to rotten words
The morning sky grows dim
The papers all eat themselves
And everything's a sin

A skeleton man with a flesh pen
Signs his golden name
Upon the wall, like a child’s scrawl
Like spirits leave a stain

Holy towns, holy worlds
And holy walking meat
Butchering itself
While blood rains in the street

And even a dead man wears a mask
There is no death's retreat
Just the siren's famous wail
That sings you sweet to sleep

Headless headlines hollow brеath
Lead us in that dance of death
And if you think you’rе not in line
Then you ain't being honest

The rules come from the top my friend
They run the world you're living in
The hypnotist, illusionist
Got hands down in your pockets

There's no trace of Eden here
Where the new martyr bleeds
Guns ring out in a house of God
Like thunder in your feed

And the twisted vines of myth they climb
Till you can't tell who's lying
The war gets close and no-one knows
For which side they are dying

Smog and fog and diamond shit
That shines and makes you ill
Is there one single unbroken heart
Out in the mire still?

Well if there is then tell me this
How long do you think it takes
Before the divide gets inside
And bleeds it till it breaks?

Headless headlines hollow breath
Lead us in that dance of death
And if you think you're not in line
Then you ain't being honest

The rules come from the top my friend
They run the world you’re living in
The hypnotist, illusionist
Got hands down in your pockets

Tents under the overpass
Broken glass and dread
Driving by, you lock the eye
But turn away the head

And the 1% can pick and chose
The fates of all of us
What’s it like to see
The golden rule turning into rust?

Voices voice the void in vain
On radios of silence
Like weary waves that push and pull
And give the ships no guidance

As candles burn and beg the dark
To stop its slow decent
Is this the light of conscience?
Oh tell me where it went

Headless headlines hollow breath
Lead us in that dance of death
And if you think you're not in line
Then you ain’t being honest

The rules come from the top my friend
They run the world you're living in
The hypnotist, illusionist
Got hands down in your pockets
Jeff Bezos and Pope Francis
Got hands down in your pockets
Mickey Mouse the capitalist
Got hands down in your pockets