Lloyd Cole

Wolves
We tired of the mountain The forest and stream We'd heard of your cities And your hot children We danced to your disco And your boogaloo Ah ooh We came to be near you But you're frightened, we see We stalk on the borders of your decency We wait for your bitches We know they will come Ah ooh We tire of the abstract We long for concrete This Gothic architecture This brutality Your jails and slaughterhouses Your democracy Ah ooh You worship false idols You love the deceased You cower before tyrants You spread the disease You lack imagination You lack imagination Ah ooh From Letras Mania