An address to the golden door 
I was [bad word] on a stone again 
pulling teeth from the pimps of gore when hatched 
a tragic opera in my mind... 
and it told of a new design 
in which every soul is duty bound 
to uphold all the statutes of boredom therein lies
the fatal flaw of the red age.

Because it was nothing like we'd ever dreamt,
our lust for life had gone away with the rent we hated 
and because it made no money nobody saved no one's life.

So we burned all our uniforms
and let nature take its course again 
and the big ones just eat all the little ones 
that sent us back to the drawing board.

In our darkest hours 
we have all asked for some 
angel [bad word] 
sprinkle his dust all around 
but all our crying voices they can't turn it around 
and you've had some crazy conversations of your own.

We've [bad word] and maps and guns in our backs 
but we still can't just behave ourselves 
even if to save our own lives, so says I, we are a [bad word] kind.

Cause this is nothing like we'd ever dreamt 
tell Sir Thomas Moore we've got another failed attempt 
cause if it makes them money they might just give you life this time.