The Amazing Kreskin Lyrics

Song	The Amazing Kreskin
Artist	Clutch
Album	Strange Cousins from the West
Download	Image LRC TXT

	作曲 : Clutch
	In the raining park the chessmen play,
	The faithful atheists refuse to pray,
	The steam-works weep, the addicts do not care,
	Crowd of cold people stand by and stare
	The garbage eaters, their many retainers
	Come to collect all the foul remainders
	The smoke hangs heavy, the wrecking ball swings
	In the clockwork of a collapsing thing
	Wasted plastic empire's golden age, chemical wedding
	Citizens in their refineries cheer the nuptial bedding
	The hourglass is turning
	On a shore of iron, cutters, and clippers
	Paper, rock, rock, paper, and scissors
	On a road of skulls their story moves on
	It's a bumpy ride and very, very, very long
	In the blue sky the seagulls fly over garbage.
	Are we the ocean?
	Are we the desert?
	Are we the garbage?
	Who's to say?

	zuo qu : Clutch
	In the raining park the chessmen play,
	The faithful atheists refuse to pray,
	The steamworks weep, the addicts do not care,
	Crowd of cold people stand by and stare
	The garbage eaters, their many retainers
	Come to collect all the foul remainders
	The smoke hangs heavy, the wrecking ball swings
	In the clockwork of a collapsing thing
	Wasted plastic empire' s golden age, chemical wedding
	Citizens in their refineries cheer the nuptial bedding
	The hourglass is turning
	On a shore of iron, cutters, and clippers
	Paper, rock, rock, paper, and scissors
	On a road of skulls their story moves on
	It' s a bumpy ride and very, very, very long
	In the blue sky the seagulls fly over garbage.
	Are we the ocean?
	Are we the desert?
	Are we the garbage?
	Who' s to say?

	zuò qǔ : Clutch
	In the raining park the chessmen play,
	The faithful atheists refuse to pray,
	The steamworks weep, the addicts do not care,
	Crowd of cold people stand by and stare
	The garbage eaters, their many retainers
	Come to collect all the foul remainders
	The smoke hangs heavy, the wrecking ball swings
	In the clockwork of a collapsing thing
	Wasted plastic empire' s golden age, chemical wedding
	Citizens in their refineries cheer the nuptial bedding
	The hourglass is turning
	On a shore of iron, cutters, and clippers
	Paper, rock, rock, paper, and scissors
	On a road of skulls their story moves on
	It' s a bumpy ride and very, very, very long
	In the blue sky the seagulls fly over garbage.
	Are we the ocean?
	Are we the desert?
	Are we the garbage?
	Who' s to say?

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