| Uh, elegant is the silence | 
| Eloquent is the choice of benevolence over violence | 
| We sat alone on that the third rock | 
| This is after the world stopped | 
| Just me and her, a pint a Jameson and her socks | 
| And everybody famous by the third shot | 
| Word blocks, slurped off some vicar | 
| What happened to that promise, what happened to her god? | 
| Is it the alpha or omega? | 
| I remember childhood, begging for a Sega | 
| I remember adulthood, begging for a leg up | 
| Now we entered the void, devoid of any meaning | 
| They try to peg us, a circle doesn’t fit into a square hole, Pythagoras | 
| I’m the desert to Las Vegas, the beggar to all kings | 
| Present in all places, killer of all things | 
| We woke up in the desert with a hangover | 
| Destruction of the peasant class and landowners | 
| Riches can’t deliver you from evil | 
| Death and all destruction been written in cathedrals | 
| But cognitive dissonance of the people | 
| Got people believing our differences don’t make us equal | 
| But when you look into the heavens, a peasant or a reverend | 
| We all asking the same questions | 
| I found that little bit of Jameson | 
| Hoping I could kill it, I don’t want to be awake again | 
| She died in her sleep, with her eyes on the sheep | 
| We held a secret that I couldn’t keep | 
| I used to be that smart guy barfly | 
| Pretty good at writing songs about the hard times | 
| I was only happy during happy hour | 
| But what’s an hour when you live after the flowers? |