A desperate soul sings for you
And the streets are made of gold
And the burglars have been told
To skip this town today

Fire works its way through
The fields of the school
The air smells of wood
Being burnt down by your words

I am amazed by the power of slaves
And you are a slave to your pain
A lovely moral chase
In the dungeons of hate

This is the time to keep an eye
On the best of the world
As they begin to burn
This could be our turn

And then we begin to slide
The world hangs its head in shame
And I hear a sound
The schoolbell rings
But there’s no kid left to be taught
Steve told them to gaze
At the fire in the field
And Steve called me yesterday
You know when he pretends to be
Someone else, someone new
Someone who has a clue
Which he has not

released on

running time

soul, streets, school, slaves