(Tyler/Whitford)
LORD I MUST BE DREAMIN' WHAT ELSE COULD THIS BE
EVERYBODY'S SCREAMIN' AND RUNNIN' FOR THE SEA
HOLY LANDS ARE SINKIN' BIRDS TAKE TO THE SKY
THE PROPHETS ALL ARE STINKIN' DRUNK
I KNOW THE REASON WHY
EYES ARE FULL OF DESIRE
MIND IS SO ILL AT EASE
EVERYTHING'S ON FIRE
SHIT PILED UP TA THE KNEES
OUT OF RHYME OR REASON EVERYONE'S TO BLAME
CHILDREN OF THE SEASON DON'T BE LAME
SORRY
You're so
SORRY
Don't be
SORRY
MAN HAS KNOWN
AND NOW THAT HE'S BLOWN IT UPSIDE-DOWN
AND HELL'S THE ONLY SOUND WE DID AN AWFUL JOB
AND NOW THEY SAY IT'S NOBODY'S FAULT
OL' SAINT ANDRES SEVEN YEARS AGO
SHOVE IT UP THEIR RICHTERS RED LINES STOP AND GO
oow
NOBLE MEN WITH COURAGE LISTEN WITH THEIR EARS
oow
SPOKE BUT HOW DISCOURAGIN'
WHEN NO ONE REALLY HEARS
ONE OF THESE DAYS YOU'LL BE SORRY
TOO MANY HOUSES ON A STILT
THREE MILLION YEARS OR JUST A STORY
FOUR ON THE FLOOR UP TO THE HILT
OUT OF RHYME OR REASON EVERYONE'S TO BLAME
CHILDREN OF THE SEASON DON'T BE LAME
SORRY
You're so
SORRY
Don't be
SORRY
MAN HAS KNOWN
AND NOW THAT HE'S BLOWN IT UPSIDE-DOWN
AND HELL'S THE ONLY SOUND WE DID AN AWFUL JOB
AND NOW WE'RE JUST A LITTLE TOO LATE
EYES ARE FULL OF DESIRE
MIND IS SO ILL AT EASE
EVERYTHING'S ON FIRE
A-SHIT PILED UP IN DEBRIS
CALIFORNIA SHOW TIME FIVE O'CLOCK'S THE NEWS
EVERYBODY'S CONCUBINE WAS PRONE TO TAKE A SNOOZE
Don't be
SORRY
You're so
SORRY
Don't be
SORRY
MAN HAS KNOWN
AND NOW THAT HE'S BLOWN IT UPSIDE-DOWN
AND HELL'S THE ONLY SOUND WE DID AN AWFUL JOB
AND NOW WE'RE JUST A LITTLE TOO LATE
