Bombs Over Providence Class Aptitude Test Results are
in, and It's Martyr or Matador for Everybody! Lyrics:
Keep time to the beat of walls coming down, three
cheers for the supernational. Tell that to the kid
who just joined cadets; breast-fed on
state-sponsored radio. Look at that, us
troublemakers got a problem again; I never knew
where or when, This boundless world lost appeal to
me, it's by the terms of the enemy. Chance alone
has placed us here. Our parents' pride condemned
us to cross our fingers while we sing these
anthems. Every banner, every flag, I'll help you
burn them up. I cross my heart and hope to tear my
tongue out. I'm meek and I'm calling dibs on
everything. Next stop, not victory, but much
worse: Parliament hill. This form has a function;
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but a simple deduction to see the effects of pick
up sticks and other games of statecraft. All
glowing hearts, dare you consider the truth of
pride worth less than what little we've done to
own our actions. Such white science abroad,
progress with wink and a nod. One road from the
port to the mine to the capital. It's easy enough
to want more when you have it all. I'll lead this
parade of thieves, still refusing to grieve the
loss of millions for something we've always
laughed at. Now who's the sucker left holding the
flag? What are we waiting for? I'm done with
picking teams. I've got some kerosene and matches
are not hard to procure. Grab the loosest thread.
Grab the loosest thread and run... (Sing hard,
think loud, I dare you) These dreams are as
far-fetched as the nearest nation state. Run up
the flag, run hard, and plant it right through
your heart. Grab the loosest thread and run.
Lyrics: Class Aptitude Test Results are in, and It's Martyr or
Matador for Everybody!, Bombs Over Providence [end]