Lord I must be dreaming, what else could this be

Everybody's screamin', runnin' for the sea

Holy lands are sinkin', birds take to the sky

The prophets all are stinkin' 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, everyone's to blame

Children of the season don't be lame

Sorry, you're so sorry, don't be sorry

Man has known and now he's blown it upside down

And hell's the only sound

We did an awful job and now they say it's nobody's fault





Old Saint Andres seven years ago

Shove it up their richters, red lights stop and go

Noblemen of courage listen with their ears

Spoke but how discouragin' when no one really hears

One of these days you'll be sorry, too many houses on the stilt

Three million years or just a story, four on the floor up to the hilt





Out of rhyme or reason, everyone's to blame

Children of the season don't be lame

Sorry, you're so sorry, don't be sorry

Man has known and now he's blown it upside down

And hell's the only sound

We did an awful job and now we're just a little too late





Eyes are full of desire, mind is so ill at ease

Everything is on fire, shit piled up to the knees





California showtime, 5 o'clocks the news

Said everybody's concubine was prone to take a snooze





Sorry, you're so sorry, don't be sorry

Man has known and now he's blown it upside down

And hell's the only sound

We did an awful job and now we're just a little too late