Bring Out Your Dead

(The rainbow is empty)

(And the lights hang low)

(There is a private eye)

(In the centre of it all)

Driving down Sunset Boulevard

Looking, looking for the song

The Starman has gone

And lately Leonard Cohen, too

There are thieves in the temple

Pretenders from thrones underground

And who really cares anymore?

We all chase the wind

Give up your ghosts, give up your ghosts

Give up your ghosts, give up your ghosts

Give up your ghosts, give up your ghosts

The church of Jesus Christ

And latter-day saints

Bright, young americans

There is one, one on every corner

The holy books are open wide

But the future is murder

Dead birds fall from the sky

Black jackals crawling

Bring out your dead, bring out your dead

Bring out your dead, bring out your dead

Bring out your dead, bring out your dead...