In city shoes of clueless blues

Pays the views and no man's news

Blades will fade from blood to sport

The heroin's cut these fuses short



Smokers rode a colonial pig

Drink and frame, this pain I think

I'm melting silver poles my dear

You bleed your wings and then disappear



The moving scenes and pilot lights

Smithereens have got 'em scaling heights

Modern times come talk me down

And battle lines are drawn across this town



Parisian boys without your names

Ghetto stones instead of chains

Talk 'em down 'cause it's up in flames

And nothing's changed



Parisian boys without your names

Riot like 1968 again

The days of rage, yeah, nothing's changed

Well pretty flames



In school, I would just bite my tongue

And now your words, they strike me down

The flags are false and they contradict

They point and click which wounds to lick



On avenues, this Christian breeze

Turns its heart to more needles please

Our eyes roll back and we beg for more

It frays this skin and then underscore



The case for war you spin and bleed

The cells you fill screen savers feed

The girls you breed, the soaps that you write

The graceless charm of your gutter snipes



The moving scenes and suburbanites

And smithereens got 'em scaling heights

Modern times come talk me down

The battle lines are drawn across this town



English boys without your names

Ghetto stones instead of chains

Hearts and minds, and U.S. planes

Nothing's changed



And English boys without your names

Riot like the 1980's again

The days of rage, yeah, nothing's changed

More pretty flames