Chorus:
Well slow down, my sweet Juliet,
There's a world of indifference but you haven't got to 
it yet
Well you cannot heal the lamb 
That you've taken to the slaughter.

Well somewhere there's glass all over the hall
And letters in blood and they're ten feet high on the 
wall,
Saying you cannot heal the lamb 
That you've laid upon the altar.

And it's, it's early April, still I'm cold as hell,
My fingers feel like ice.
Let's go back inside, forget the big parade
Wouldn't that be nice?

Chorus

Well the TV reached out and it laid its hands on me,
Saying you cannot heal the lamb
That you've laid upon my altar.

Now when it rains, still I can't get clean,
Remember why we came.
I heard it said if you're not in love on the first day 
of spring
Well you've only yourself to blame.

Now whether you hit out or you're being hit,
It's just the ways of an empire that's slowly falling 
to bits.
If you find nothing to heal
There's plenty left to slaughter,
Plenty left to slaughter.