Out of the playground's ashes
Come little men with little games
They're playing war,
They're planning new crusades
Like new arcades
The reason for the season is
To flood the media
With suicidal mania
And paint this landscape with this human waste
So lets all sing,
Sing a song of love,
(Sing, sing, sing)
Sing until our
Throats bleed
And if this child could speak he would say:
«I don't need anybody,
I don't need anyone,
I don't need your guidance home»
Yeah, yeah, history's a stage for reruns
For 3 am insomniacs
who quote the episodes:
«If tricycles came with guns
We'd all be safe»
And little green men didn't come from outer space
with coupons in the Sunday paper
They came from corporate brains
So until we all confess
Admit we stole the candy
These little men are playing games
From here to eternity
But I'll be sitting by myself here
Waiting oh so patiently
Waiting for the sky to fall
And purge this frail humanity
So lets all sing,
Sing a song of love
And we'll pretend were not to blame
Let's sing, sing, sing
Sing a song of love
(Sing, sing, sing)
Sing until our
Throats bleed
And if this child could sing he would sing:
«I don't need anybody,
I don't need anyone,
I don't need your guidance home
Watch as I build my empire,
Watch as I rise and fall,
Watch as I fight all alone»