Lord I must be dreamin' What else could this be Everybody's screamin' Running' for the sea
Holy lands are sinkin' Birds take to the sky The prophets are all stinking 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 St. Andres Seven years ago Shove it up their richters Red lines stop and go Noblemen of courage Listen with their ears Spoke but how discouragin' When no one really hears
One of these day's 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, we'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 in debris
California showtime Five o'clock's the news Everybody's concubine Was prone to take a snooze
Sorry, we'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 aweful job And now we're just a little too late