The girls on the streets all look sad in this gold encrusted little town
|
Why is that?
|
Isn't this the town of dreams?
|
yeah... But it comes with a price
|
It's a town that never does anything and yet takes all the credit
|
A place that promises so much,
|
But never has a thing to say,
|
Or a care in the world
|
There is no memory here
|
No dream for itself but the dreams of others
|
And all over the world you talk of a place you've only seen in re-runs
|
Immortalized for it's vice, and deified for it's carnage
|
(There's money in the air there)
|
(All you have to do is reach up and grab it)
|
In basements, garages, parking lots, empty lots, schoolyards, town cars, backrooms and more
|
Diamonds are fashioned from expectations and fortified on a steady diet,
|
of simple lives and red carpets
|
The ejaculating Zeitgeist in night vision
|
Culture is a punch line and emotion is blood in the water
|
The sharks here play games you can't fathom
|
But you flock here anyway
|
On college money and credit cards
|
Spend a week bull shitting yourself that it was all true
|
All of it
|
Just to watch in horror as it all falls to pieces under the gravity of reality
|
The starry eyes fade as it dawns on you
|
Nothing is guaranteed
|
You are a part of the great divide
|
The chosen or the frozen
|
Now your mouth's away without a net
|
Your college money's a collage of debt
|
and your credit cards are all snapped in fucking half
|
time to wander a landscape bereft of mercy
|
This is now the back lot of your failed movie
|
A waking dream re-written without your permission
|
The real luster, the soft focus, the...
|
Soap opera vision is just the hindsight of a world who's been lied to
|
Of sad surfs and untouchable lords
|
You took a chance didn't you?
|
But chance didn't have a par for you this time around, maybe next life
|
And you can't even walk home
|
The girls on the streets all look sad in this cardboard cut-out little town
|
(huh) No wonder
|
That's the only thing here that's real
|
The gold is for fools
|
And paradise is lost but the hungry have never bothered with the cost
|
Day by day they fall away like rose petalsLike ink that won't dry or fade
|
It just runs wild down cracks and crevices, grooves and folds
|
so I hope someone saves you before you get cold
|
I really do
|
Because the girls are all sad in this little black book
|
If you don't believe me, take a closer look
|
if you can
|
|
-----------------
|
The Frozen
|
| Stone Sour |
