I often dream of drones,
disguise my voice on the telephone.
Sometimes when we're free,
I can feel your heart beatin' in your skull.
Patriotic symbols in a banquet hall--
if the world has gone to shit,
at least it's written in the stalls.
I need my head like I need a black hole.
All our heroes say, "Let the good times roll!"
Someone's on the ropes again.
Where there's smoke, there's always a
pyrotechnic show for the fans
who paid, who paid.
Receipts at the gate, let it all accumulate
and let 'em burn.
I often dream of drones,
my thoughts run wild when I'm all alone.
Project my own demise,
signs of life in an alibi.
Everybody's got thoughts they don't understand.
There's something in the air
like you could hold it in your hand.
Search far and wide,
there's nowhere left to hide our gold.
All our heroes say, "Let the good times roll!"
Someone's on the ropes again.
Where there's smoke, there's always a
pyrotechnic show for the fans
who paid, who paid.
Receipts at the gate, let it all accumulate
and let 'em burn.
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