Now the reins are loose and all around
the tumbleweed is tracing out your frown the furrow's on the rise the buried are alive
there's trouble in the seven day dust
now the veil of beasts have dragged you round
you've kissed the hands of strangehold and found
they bruise the neck of songbirds on their way to you

we are the century's ghosts
we are the century's ghosts

all ribbon far let loose on
the tangled curse that pierced your eye and will
to carry on

now the ox has blown the feathers through
the oven door to make the angel wings
the hallelujah sirens are singing to the aspiring
there's trouble in the seven day dust
float the bloated butchers on a string
the supper songs are deafening and green
the lucky jaws of time
are sweetened by the rhyme

we are the century's ghosts we are the century's ghosts we are the century's ghosts

all ribbon fat let loose
on the tangled curse that pierced your eye and will
to carry on

to the weeping dogs at ankles we can say could you ring a bell of sense
to shake loose the seven day dust from the plastic trees

drum terror man take me someplace new