on that day, they'll tell you 
that life hummed on with no clue 
the warning signs were all 
dismissed or shouted down 
so it goes 
the kings all failed to tell us 
the madmen failed to sell us 
on what would then [bad word] 
the only life we know 
were they burning signal fires 
to guide us to the fields? 
or building funeral pyres? 
the [bad word] of a final appeal 
the city lines are down 
the [bad word] out 
the fracturing of all we relied upon 
lets shed this unclean skin 
and start to feel again 
because all the shoulders 
on which to cry are gone 
the paranoia gripped us 
the rain turned engines [bad word] 
the panic set in like a cancer to our hearts 
spreading through 
we bet on finite genius 
or prayed for gods to save us 
but there was no antidote 
disease tore us apart 
we left bodies in the fields 
so numb that we forgot how to feel 
the city lines are down 
the [bad word] out 
the fracturing of all we relied upon 
lets shed this unclean skin 
and start to feel again 
because all the shoulders 
on which to cry are gone 
he looked at the fields 
and then his hands, 
"All i need is what i have." 
then shed a tear of happiness 
she watched the world  [bad word] away 
"is this the end of yesterday?" 
"Lord, I hope so," is all he said 
gone are the old guards 
gone are the cold, cold wars 
weightless we go forth 
on wings of amnesty 
the city lines are down 
the [bad word] out 
the fracturing of all 
we relied upon 
lets shed this unclean skin 
and start to feel again 
there are no shoulders 
shoulders to cry on now 
no more 
no more 
the weight that we once felt is gone