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Lord I must be dreamin
What else could this be
Everybodys screamin
Runnin 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
Everyones to blame
Children of the season
Dont be lame


Sorry were so sorry
Dont be sorry
Man has known
And now hes blown it
Upside down and hells the only sound
We did an awful job
And now they say its nobodys 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 days a youll 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
Everyones to blame
Children of the season
Dont be lame


Sorry were so sorry
Dont be sorry
Man has known
And now hes blown it
Upside down and hells the only sound
We did an awful job
And now were just a little too late


Eyes are full of desire
Mind is so ill at ease
Everything is on fire
A shit piled up in debris

California showtime
Five oclocks the news
Everybodys concubine
Was prone to take a snooze

Sorry were so sorry
Dont be sorry
Man has known
And now hes blown it
Upside down and hells the only sound
We did an aweful job
And now were just a little too late