Оригинален текст
ll the latest toughs, youve got to shrug them off or shut them off. With ten-thousand-time-told truths, youve still got to ask for proof. Ask for proof, because if youre dying to be led theyll lead you up the hill in chains to their popular refrains until your slaughters been arranged, my little lamb, and its much too late to talk the knife out of their hands. Well, I woke up on a foggy morning. Hiding from the sun, he was hiding from the sun. But it came out and it shot its rays down. Burning everyone, it was burning everyone. But they were dying, anyway, to turn to ash, to feel their feelings flash and finally fade away, in a fabulous and fiery display. Look, though, I don't know what notes you want to hear played, I can't think what lines you'd like me to sing or say, and I'm not sure what subjects you want mentioned. So pause and add your own intentions. We've included a form you can print out and fill out and send below:
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All the latest toughs, well, we have seen that stuff, and we have seen enough blood in dying coughs, which means that we have lost. We have lost, and if youre crying to be tossed theyll toss you down the oubliette with all the old things that you let yourself forget because youd like to love a star whod throw you down below the ground he thinks you are.