Plague has reached the city walls
The hangman is upset: no work today
They'll all die anyway
A blond belief above the harvest
What's with all the rye and thyme
What's in it for fighting for your life
It is as random as it's quiet
And it is everywhere
The black knight of death arrives
Casts a funeral song
All rise, oh
What's not impossible just made it possible
And look, you've found
One of these days that will turn your life around
And you shout it out loud
Plague still feeds the city moles
The hangman is upset: no work today
They'll all die anyway
You talk about a human harvest
Handkerchiefs and suicides
Postmen doing neigbours' wives
They're all sides to what we call life
While stumbling to its silver linings
The man from your dream arrives
You shake hands and he denies:
"oh, i'm most certainly not, but i do get that a lot"
And look who's found
One of those days that can turn a life around
What lies behind your lies
And between your alibies
You don't really have to mention
As random as it's quiet
As random as it's quiet
I'm out of the circulation
What lies behind your lies
And between your alibies
You don't really have to mention
I'm getting out of the circulation.
