Some people got: more kicks than halfpence

and cry for attention, like cracks in the pavement

And all of this pointed, like perfect TV

When you're sowing the wind, you reap the whirlwind

CHORUS

Who gets the mansions-we get the ruins

Same old story

YOur flexible nature, serving no purpose

Like a terrible artist, using no shadow

And the king of the castle, is pulling new shapes

Gilding the lilies, and all of them fakes

CHORUS

typical tragic, small house and small street

Narrow the outlook, small minded coomplete

The emperor's new clothes, get clearer and clearer

Dictate to the fingers, that tighten the trigger

CHORUS

And the king of the castle is pulling new shapes

Life is a poison, it begins at home

Pride is a trinket, a security blanket

You could tangle the spiders on the webs that we weave

CHORUS