Lyrics
I burn with anger all the time, i don t see hope Where, in every headline we are reminded
And in her voice only sadness, the teeth of this world tear me in half, i walk this modern tight-rope
And everyday i must ask myself where, and the memory of the way things were, different worlds and different rules
where is home
The second generation blues, we sit and reminisce about the past, of humility and belligerence
That this is not home for us, where is home
To break the fingers of every old judge, our point of view not listened to
i want to stamp on the face of every young policeman
Of humility and belligerence, this tommy-rot and flag waving, but i cannot
to break the fingers of every old judge
After the funeral breaking kola nuts, and in her voice only sadness
We sit and reminisce about the past, i want to stamp on the face of every young policeman Where, after the funeral breaking kola nuts
is getting me down
Of humility and belligerence, so i just sigh, that this is not home for us
And the memory of the way things were, and i pretend that there s nothing wrong
clinging to her bible and her scapular
i don t see hope
This tommy-rot and flag waving, and everyday i must ask myself where
her only son taken from her
in every headline we are reminded
And i just sulk, different worlds and different rules Bloc, i don t see hope
I cannot smile, is getting me down
that this is not home for us
Is getting me down, of humility and belligerence
So i just sigh, is getting me down
Where is home, but i cannot Where, we sit and reminisce about the past
Is getting me down, where is home
And i pretend that there s nothing wrong, that this is not home for us, in every headline we are reminded
Where is home, and in her voice only sadness
in every headline we are reminded
and i pretend that there s nothing wrong
I burn with anger all the time, that this is not home for us
In every headline we are reminded, where is home, i don t see hope
That this is not home for us, in every headline we are reminded
I walk this modern tight-rope, in every headline we are reminded, to cut off the feet of every ballerina
In every headline we are reminded, after the funeral breaking kola nuts Where, we sit and reminisce about the past
That this is not home for us, to cut off the feet of every ballerina Where, in every headline we are reminded
I don t see hope, this tommy-rot and flag waving
In every headline we are reminded, after the funeral breaking kola nuts, i walk this modern tight-rope
That this is not home for us, that this is not home for us, that this is not home for us
so i just sigh
I don t see hope, in every headline we are reminded
To cut off the feet of every ballerina, i burn with anger all the time, in every headline we are reminded
This tommy-rot and flag waving, in every headline we are reminded, that this is not home for us
in every headline we are reminded
And everyday i must ask myself where, and i just sulk
where is home
After the funeral breaking kola nuts, this tommy-rot and flag waving
is getting me down
and i just sulk
clinging to her bible and her scapular
in every headline we are reminded
that this is not home for us
to break the fingers of every old judge