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It's alright, it's just the cradle burnsRacing to the corners of your mind that hate the worldBurn the dress and hang it in the treeCount the birds that see the shine of hope without diseaseI am the son of a mother and a manBut the monkey is wheezing like a whipped old manThe clowns are off feeding the fat to the flowHere come the servants to shovel bonesRight upon the wake the cradle burnsReturn with hands of terror to rub my feet togetherIt's alright psychology of blameHas one cheek, an eye for any eye, and leaps of faith to tameI am the son of a mother and a manBut the monkey is wheezing like a whipped old manThe clowns are off feeding the fat to the flowAnd here come the servants to shovel bonesFunny funny funny how the well gets water when the fever flowsAnd by the charge of chance we can race the dance to BabylonFunny funny funny how the well gets water when the fever flowsAnd by the charge of chance we can race the dance to BabylonEvery day a rat falls from the skyLetras de cancionesTo chase the snow around the room and tell you you're for fliesEvery day a cradle burn will fallIf you drown all the days you wasted your hands on a whip without a spineI am the son of a mother and a manAnd the horsedrawn wishes have been sent on their wayDown a hole where the cradle burns goHere come the servants to shovel bonesFunny funny funny how the well gets water when the fever flowsAnd by the charge of chance we can race the dance to BabylonFunny funny funny how the well gets water when the fever flowsAnd by the charge of chance we can race the dance to Babylon From Letras Mania