Fire de Poets Of The Fall

It's a bit like a trip, but you hit it with a slip of a tongue,
Like a whip, and we're sinking,
It ain't cool to be cool, though you may think it a laudable tool of self evaluation,
Of ego cultivation

And I'm rolling my eyes like the stones for the lies
Is it really all about the size? Or just a simple vice...

Oh, and it makes the news
Oh, 'cos it sings the blues

I feel the fire flare alight inside me
Higher so I can see
And aspire to survive this fight in spite of
Liars and travesty
Oh fire

Did you think that I'd blink, that I'd go and take the ink to your control,
That I'd sell my soul
And does it ring any bells that it sells that we're living out of shells in a shotgun

If we couldn't shoot, we'd have to run [and finally, the cerebral fantasy]
Better genes and machines, so we can die looking like we're teens
Like snapshot scenes in smithereens...

Oh, and the ones we choose
Oh, witch hunting fools

Fire flare alight inside me
Higher so I can see
And aspire to survive this fight in spite of
Liars and travesty
Oh fire

Oh, there it is in the news again
Look, there it goes singing the blues again
Yeah, there it is in the news again
Look, there it goes singing the blues again

There it is in the news again,
There it goes singing the blues again
There it is in the news again
There it goes singing the blues - Fire!

Flare alight inside me
Higher so I can see
And aspire to survive this fight in spite of
Liars and travesty
Oh fire

Return my joy 'cos I'm so tired,
Tired of me
Inspire the weary eyed to see the
Ire and Irony
Oh fire