Looking at the idol,
On the upper rung,
Throwing flowers to the crowd,
A shot rang out.
Behind the movement,
All the pain,
The doubt,
There goes a juggling bear.
There’s always going to be another.
We don’t need no re-runs
Looking at the idol,
He looked bored, and he looked drunk.
That matador, survival,
Ammunition front,
Is all gone now.
Like Mother’s love.
It’s all gone now.
He’s out there running scared,
Like any other motherfucker.
Mother
Fucker
Mother
Fucker
Mother
We don’t need no re-runs
You wanted to call, but you’re
Unsure of what you’d say.
There’s blood on every ceiling.
So you wait, and wait,
And wait, and wait.
People die waiting,
For the lighting to come back,
This way.
All while looking at the idol.
We don’t need no re-runs.
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