Down in the valley where the veins don't go   And the tied up tigers smoke the dope   And dream of rope fuck with everything with a face   And the straight disgrace of a mission on a mountain   Of blood tracks to the Queen in a tower of money money money   Talking to the train tracks working for the   Wrong man dreaming of the perfect tan and the   Beautiful voices telling you what you are and   The death of poetry on the pages of a magazine   Strung out on the perfect set of genes   Chorus   Funny how the days slip by without a thought   In the mind or a moment of time with your feet   On the ground I know that this will come round   Such a beautiful thing that one day all of this   Will be gone   Nothing is sacred nothing is true   Nothing is blue and I don't mind what you do   'Cause my mind is my mind in spite of you   Chorus   Standing on a spaceship looking for life   Or a god or a gun or a matchbook telephone number   To the one who might love you or maybe...   Maybe....maybe....maybe....maybe....maybe....   Maybe it's time to close the line   And step outside and look for the great disaster   It must might be faster   To close this book myself   Chorus   Isn't it strange that we've come this far   And still dont' know who we are...   Chorus:   And I don't wanna be there   When it all comes crashing down   Somehow there's gonna be tomorrow   Somehow there's gonna be tomorrow   I know...I know...I know...all too well