Текст (слова) песни: New Model Army - Burning Season
I`m sick of the sight of some snot-nosed kid Cutting a swathe through the age of deconstruction Picking at the sores of the dying beast And winning all the prizes for imagination I don`t know what we`ve got to lose But I see the statues beginning to fall The deisel`s turning, the moon is high
Ch: What the hell are we waiting for? I see the smoke on the blue horizon I smell the fires of the burning season What the hell are we waiting for?
I`m sick of the ironies piled up high In this sneery culture with its knowing smile I`m sick of the sermons from the Church of Unbelief All fat, empty and anaesthetised The emperor`s out riding naked again I can`t believe we`re still playing this tired old game Let`s get out there and cut him down
Ch: What the hell are we waiting for? . .
On a smoky yellow sunset, I`m sitting at the wheel As the traffic crawls by on the ten-lane Bumper to bumper, nowhere to nowhere into the next millenium I see you drowning in a sea of rage Let`s go back and get the ones who put you down here The highway`s jammed up with disinformation And the anaesthetic dealers are selling by the million
Ch: What the fuck are we waiting here for? . .
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