One, two, three, four...

Sons and daughters
Troubled waters
stench of burned gasoline
Silicon and Codeine
Flooded highlands in misty haza
Mudslides and suicides
Earhquakes and gamma rays
Devilish acts of God above
Carried to heaven by a dirty white dove
And in the corner there's a broken man
His fingers are on the trigger now
And as the smell of dying embers [bad word] strings on his bow
sound explodes and fills the room
And echoes beyound these walls of doom
Until it vanishes up in the air
With nothing more [bad word] Yeah, we must aim for the stars and we are gonna get up high
We must build another tower and make it though the fires
We must sail the seven seas now the water abound
We shall cease the deceased until the [bad word] around
With noting more [bad word] ..