musical ladders

leaning on mountains

bathed in white laughter

under the sun

somebody's birthday

came stumbling towards us

wrapped in green gladness

under the sun

we're gonna to make it through this war tonight

someone hold this child up to the light

prostitute fingers

fumbling with matches

tucked in red couches

under green moons

mexican waitress

god caught in the crossfire

of militant families

bursting with jews

we're gonna break it to your folks tonight

kind of hope your pops dont hear me right

ooh yeah