Fire questions to the sky
so many bullets rain back down
Cruelty abound by the bookstore in town
Where skagheads rob ragheads and laugh
back to broken scuttle-bug alleys and rain
the pain
I hope your age doesn't enrage you
or I hope the town doesn't become you
Burn all your Matterhorn replica symmetrical dreams
guard all bars by the backdoor sullied sweethearts
the ally of your ally is an enemy of somebody's enemy
but the enemy of that enemy is a friend of the state

Liquid LSD spilt on the raptured structures of this ***-
King city and the all encompassing simultaneous trip
is only the perception of reality we're made to endure
the title you hold is a roll of paper by the door
and we burned them all for heat when the powers that be
rolled over you and me