It's curtains for universality, the applause has faded away, and with that damp musty smell, we're left staring at days, hours, weeks, of irreductible silence stale
The record skips repeating itself again Broken The record skips it's sunday afternoon and we're left with the wind blowing through the cancer-ridden heart of this ghost town
The parade's over, everyone's gone home
The record skips, the record skips, the record skips