Drunken angels smoking their pipes
screaming fables about cinderella's wife
- All our heroes, they're all gone
the elder points out
They hold hands while someone
carry in their tears
They go on and on and on
Without knowing they are all wrong
Someone is playing their song
about what is true and what is gone
With sweaty hands and a heart that's been put on hold
Golden strings and a broken voice
Circulating novas amplifying life
They never bought us, we gave them a fight
So dear angels, get sober soon
or you will miss our moon
So here's a fable about standing tall
and to climb back up each time you fall
We're the heroes and we're not gone
We will stay when you've left
Someone is playing their song…