All the president's men, standing in line in their sunday best Bastard sons of unspeakable days The pride of the nation in the glory of men Haven't you learned a thing?
There's a deafening sound as the Earth swallows red with regret It's the echoes of thirty six And she wonders what goes through your head, little man
Still the rivers run crimson and gold Haven't you seen enough? Still the rivers run crimson and gold Haven't you seen enough?
It's a desperate lie, of peace and progress and the future of men Because the ghosts you forgave should have taught you to think But this is a fucking disgrace
Still the rivers run crimson and gold Haven't you seen enough? Still the rivers run crimson and gold Haven't you seen enough?
