Forgotten throes at anothers lie,
The heart of love is their only light,
Faithless greeds consolidating,
Holding down sweet charity,

With western eyes and serpent's breath,
We lay our own conscience to rest

But I'll aching,
At the view,
Yes I'm breaking,
At the scenes just like you

They have values of a certain taste,
The innocent they can hardly wait,
To crucify invalidating,
Turning to dishonesty

With western eyes and serpent's breath
They lay their own conscience to rest

But then they lie and then they dare to be,
Hidden heroes candidly

So I'm aching,
At the view,
Yes I'm breaking,
At the scenes just like you

I feel so cold,
On hookers and gin,
This mess we're in