Burning Season

I'm sick of the sight of some snot-nosed kid
Cutting the streets of the age of deconstruction
Breaking up the swords of the dying beast
And winning all the prizes for imagination
I don't know what we've got to lose
But all your statues are beginning to fold
The days are dying, the food is rife
What the hell are we waiting for?
Yeah, what the hell are we waiting here for?
I see the smoke on the blue horizon
I smell the fires on the burning seas
And what the hell are we waiting here for?
I'm sick of the ironies piled up high
In this leery culture with its knowing smile
I'm sick of the sermons from the church of unbelief
All fat, empty and anaesthetised
The emperor's out riding naked again
I can't believe we're still playing the Dido game
Let's get out there, let's cut it down
What the fuck are we waiting here for?
Yeah, what the hell are we waiting here for?
I see the smoke on the blue horizon
I smell the fires on the burning seas
And what the hell are we waiting here for?
On a smoky little sunset I'm sitting at the wheel
As the traffic rolls by on the ten lane
Bumper to bumper, nowhere to nowhere
Into the end of the millennium
I see you drowning in a sea of rage
Let's go back and get the ones that put you down here
The highway's jammed up with disinformation
And anaesthetic needles sending out polytheism
What the hell are we waiting for?
Yeah, what the fuck are we waiting 'round here for?
I see the smoke on the blue horizon
I smell the fires on the burning seas
And what the hell are we waiting here for?