Lord I must be dreaming
What else could this be
Everybodys screaming
Running for the sea
Holy lands are sinking
Birds take to the sky
The prophets are all stinking drunk
I know the reason why
Eyes are full of desire
Mind is so ill at ease
Everything is on fire
Shit piled up to the knees
Out of rhyme or reason
Everyones to blame
Children of the season
Dont be lame
Sorry, youre so sorry
Dont be sorry
Man has known it
Now hes blown it
Up-side down and hells the only way
We did an awful job
And now they say its nobodys fault
Old st. andres
Seven years ago
Shove it up their richters
Red light stop and go
Noble men of courage
Listen with their ears
Spoke but how discouraging
When no one really hears
One of these days youll be sorry
Too many houses on stilt
Three milion years or just a story
Four on the floor up to the hilt
(chorus)
Out of rhyme or reason
Everyones to blame
Children of the season
Dont be lame
Sorry, youre so sorry
Dont be sorry
Man has known it
Now hes blown it
Up-side down and hells the only way
We did an awful job
And now were just a little too late
Eyes are full of desire
Mind is so ill at ease
Everything is on fire
Shit piled up in debris
California showtime
Five oclocks the news
Everybodys concubine
Was prone to take a snooze
Sorry, youre so sorry
Dont be sorry
Man has known it
Now hes blown it
Up-side down and hells the only way
We did an awful job
And now were just a little too late