| Standin' on the cornerstone
|
| And I hear the larks are callin', larks are callin'
|
| And I’ll be landin' on the borders of Rome
|
| To see the kings are fallin', kings are fallin'
|
| And we’ll be brandishing our daggers at home
|
| Until the mornin’s dawnin', mornin’s dawnin'
|
| And there’ll be killin' for a seat on the throne
|
| Watch as knights are stormin', knights are stormin'
|
| And we will tear it down
|
| And we will tear it down
|
| They say it’s easy to criticise in days like these
|
| Living back side to front inside a cyanide dream
|
| Fuelling greed, impresarios, and dressed up thieves
|
| Clown suited in conjecture on these HD screens, before these
|
| Whipper-snappers makin' all those toil
|
| Bleedin' out the grease-monkeys for the cogs in the coil
|
| This is toy town junction, this dystopian free
|
| And this a cast iron pity if you see what they see, so I said
|
| Fire up the machine, these shots are loaded
|
| They’re stretchin' your means, until your hands are folded
|
| Slide up the ravine, these streets are never golden
|
| Driving in your spleen, no blowing of emotion
|
| No thanks and no please, they want it now or never
|
| Where greed is the key, and I don’t feel so clever
|
| Discreet in defeat, I’m more for hell in leather
|
| So climb on your feet, and we can make it better
|
| Standin' on the cornerstone
|
| And I hear the larks are callin', larks are callin'
|
| And I’ll be landin' on the borders of Rome
|
| To see the kings are fallin', kings are fallin'
|
| And we’ll be brandishing our daggers at home
|
| Until the mornin’s dawnin', mornin’s dawnin'
|
| And there’ll be killin' for a seat on the throne
|
| Watch as knights are stormin', knights are stormin'
|
| And we will tear it down
|
| And we will tear it down
|
| And we will tear it down
|
| And we will tear it down
|
| They say it’s easy to criticise in days like these
|
| Living back side to front inside a cyanide dream
|
| Fuelling greed, impresarios, and dressed up thieves
|
| Clown suited in conjecture on these HD screens, before these
|
| Whipper-snappers makin' all those toil
|
| Bleedin' out the grease-monkeys for the cogs in the coil
|
| This is toy town junction, this dystopian free
|
| And this a cast iron pity if you see what they see, so I said
|
| Fire up the machine, these shots are loaded
|
| They’re stretchin' your means, until your hands are folded
|
| Slide up the ravine, these streets are never golden
|
| Driving in your spleen, no blowing of emotion
|
| No thanks and no please, they want it now or never
|
| Where greed is the key, and I don’t feel so clever
|
| Discreet in defeat, I’m more for hell in leather
|
| So climb on your feet, and we can make it better
|
| Standin' on the cornerstone
|
| And I hear the larks are callin', larks are callin'
|
| And I’ll be landin' on the borders of Rome
|
| To see the kings are fallin', kings are fallin'
|
| And we’ll be brandishing our daggers at home
|
| Until the mornin’s dawnin', mornin’s dawnin'
|
| And there’ll be killin' for a seat on the throne
|
| Watch as knights are stormin', knights are stormin'
|
| And we will tear it down |