The hollow sky is red
The race is on
Faces are all dead
The race is on.
It's just a matter of time
Bedrooms are tombs
Cradles are coffins
Tears I cannot shed.
A matter of time
A matter of slugs
Til' the rats are fed.
Who examines the doctors!
I'm the hollow man
It's just a matter of bullets
In hollow brains
As I wander slowly
Thru bullet rains
My hollow eyes
Are staring down the hole.
Jesus, Satan, Hitler
Bought my soul.
It's rotten and sour
But it's inside of me.
I got faith in the end
But you just can't see.