Song of Sam
Wenn ich das Word Kultur höre
Ensichere ich meinen Pistole
If you gaze into the neon blackness
Traverse the underside of dreams
Cursing both the seer and the blind
Where madmen walk among the blessed
Exile in a regal vein
A hundred flags unraveled in the rain
Where madmen walk among the blessed
Exile in a regal vein
A hundred flags unraveled in the rain
In the rain
And if this life is made of things miraculous
And all the stars are gleaming in the sky
If all the things that bless us
Can't be understood
The heart will still accept the reason why
And if these dreams are made of things immaculate
And all the suns are blazing in the sky
If all the things that curse us can't be understood
The heart will still lament the reason why
Whenever I hear the word 'Culture'
I reach for my pistol
Wenn ich das Word Kultur höre
Ensichere ich meinen Pistole
If you gaze into the neon blackness
Traverse the underside of dreams
Cursing both the seer and the blind
Where madmen walk among the blessed
Exile in a regal vein
A hundred flags unraveled in the rain
Where madmen walk among the blessed
Exile in a regal vein
A hundred flags unraveled in the rain
In the rain
And if this life is made of things miraculous
And all the stars are gleaming in the sky
If all the things that bless us
Can't be understood
The heart will still accept the reason why
And if these dreams are made of things immaculate
And all the suns are blazing in the sky
If all the things that curse us can't be understood
The heart will still lament the reason why
Whenever I hear the word 'Culture'
I reach for my pistol