We're a close parlay   To the quotient of the day.   Yeah it's all destroyed it won't even matter.   They say: "though we'll go, we have no home",   Except the one that makes us stop and say   This is where the weathered wear there arms like armor   And where the clock is like another wittled mother   Born to suffer.      So we scream Bloody Murder   (An evil fake bloody-martyr?)   And now we'll wait for the orders.      I am   Hostage   To the   Ebb and   Flow      We are   Hostage   To the   Ebb and   Flow, flow, flow, flow oh oh oh      OK now I got a (shot's lot?) of bread   (dossier?) brothel bound and   Red tape so they can't trace us   For this decree we remain nameless   Turn the page 'cause you just got famous      (silver top???) and serenade   And when complacency capitulates   Underneath the open sky    Tonight   So I drew a place all fit for your own pleasure    Lay down your sword and be thankful   Biding time for right or rifles    Is just a trick with out a trade   A trick with out a      We can't save you   From knowing the   Curse of the longest day      Cause and cure all   Come from having   the sense to know it was high time to escape.      So welcome to stop   Welcome to stop   Welcome to stop   Where progress halts      I am   Hostage   to the   Ebb and flow   We are   Hostage   To the   Ebb and flow   Flow, flow, flow, etc.