terminal announcement

no one must see where tired phrases go
what truly matters is the broadcast lie
our motives are as pure as day-old snow

nobody cares what stubborn breezes blow
nor what the colour of the morning sky
no one must see where tired phrases go

tomorrow comes the radioactive glow
for now we punish those who dare to pry
our motives are as pure as day-old snow

we gave our bank accounts a chance to grow
and watched as all the numbers mounted high
no one must see where tired phrases go

we do not care if you hatred bestow
upon our heads we have the time to fly
our motives are as pure as day-old snow

this is the hour that you will come to know
when all our assets have to go bye-bye
no one must see where tired phrases go
our motives are as pure as day-old snow

in hoc signo vinces

 you had a dream and had to watch it die

no one would speak as all the good folk fell

there is no safety left beneath this sky

 

you saw the anger blazing in his eye

and listened to the hostile shout and yell

you had a dream and had to watch it die

 

nothing was said you had no time to cry

nobody thought even to toll a bell

there is no safety left beneath this sky

 

the times are sour and the season's dry

no word is left for anyone to tell

you had a dream and had to watch it die

 

we have no thought to interfere or pry

no hope is left that we might have to quell

there is no safety left beneath this sky

 

you enter now the kingdom of the lie

the place appointed for your living hell

you had a dream and had to watch it die

there is no safety left beneath this sky

so here's a tale

 hidden at the sad centre of this maze

is something that we do not wish to find

the sort of truth we want to leave behind

to perish in the dark of fallen days

but what we know in all of time's delays

is that the march of pity is not kind

those things that are to memory consigned

will pop back up right into open gaze

visions are true though we may name them lies

and thrust the tale down into oubliette

before a word can honestly be said

we have the art of feigning true surprise

but not the one of counterfeit regret

for that alone we have to earn our bread