the things we laid do not amount to much   made of abandoned wood loose stones and such      this revolution baby   proves who you work for lately      release the castaways who run amok   from self appointed winds which blow and such   when present tense gets strangled in the mire   made of our cozy decomposing wires      who do you work for baby   and does it work for you lately      but when the night is over and the walls start burning   when fire starts to matter and the clock is churning   cliches and other chatter keeps our minds from   learning      it's alright      the things we laid do not amount to much   made up of thought balloons and cotton swabs   when present tense gets strangled in the woes   made of our future foe scenarios      this revolution baby   proves who you work for lately   who do you work for baby   and does it work for you lately      but when the night is over and the walls keep linking   when fire starts to matter and the clock keeps sinking   cliches and other chatter keeps our minds from   thinking   our minds keep thinking      it's alright      that's when it turned on me   a motorcade of 'meant to be's’   parades of beauty queens   where soft entwines make kindling   these many detailed things   like broken nails and plastic rings   will win by keeping me   from speaking to my new darling   and there's no way to know   our future foe scenarios   that's when it turned on me   where bobby pins hold angel wings      it's alright