First there was a memory and the promise of days to come

And then the sound and the fury of hurricanes on the ground

But my home, it's not a place, it's a tone in the haze of the morning sun

Here in the land of pleasures, how blessed are we to roam

So turn, turn down the offers that promise to bring you home

'Cause your home, it's not a place, it's a tone in the haze of the morning sun

So burn, burn down to ashes what's meant to be burnt alone

And blow, blow up the houses and the wind in return will blow up your home