You know that empires never fade and   Groves keep on flowering   And they’re tightening up the reins   To keep the animals from growling      And the baby’s in the black hearse   Baby’s in the black hearse   A flushing of coughs that are young   So we’ll never know      And a jet plane’s never wrong   Though the clouds sure have said so   And an ocean moves along from the stage to the back row   There’s crazies in the back row   Crazies in the back row   Clapping that will never stop once it’s begun      A mission to act    Though the act’s not credible, it certainly moves along   Lies get disguised as some new, wonderful, substance soon forgotten      Cliché states: “If it’s dark in the tunnel, then it needs some light”   But that’s just a lie used by idols who are rivals (they’d never say hello)   I’d like to rest in the depths of a tunnel   I won’t need no light   And if there’s room on the tomb put the following:      Listen everyone   Lost in the sandstorm   Thoguh It won’t stop raging on    Though your eyes cannot take more   So why is there trying?