They say “These works of art
can't build your Noah's ark
or drain away the flood or brighten the dark
so you might as well give in.”
Well yes sir I see,
certainly what they must mean,
but me and you and us and them are free,
to just sit and stare... cause we don't care.

You search for enough, finding it rough...
for the sake of the sea... you're tryin' to drown me.
So it'll be in this here hierarchy,
climbing downward escalators stepping through the soothsayers...

who've been blown apart.
"Bring out your dead to the horse-drawn cart."
But no sir we're in some sort of Noah's ark
looking close for mountains in the sea.
We hope they're there and you're wrong,
and nothing like all these here siren songs,
filling ears with fear and we just don't belong
to your barbarian horde... it just makes us bored.