mama my mother earth is flat
and the garbage cans are rolling down the streets
and they're filled with tiny skeletons
of people who just couldn't stand this heat

and i can tango by myself
but one dead makes a graveyard by design
and i have reasons to believe
honesty is only in your mind

mama my mother earth is cracked
it's a crack through which all decency escaped
and i wish i could convince the bells
that they conduct their own symphonic hells

mama my mother earth is tangerines
and gasoline and two demonic hands
and all the eyes are fixed upon the saints
as they come marching through again

i can tango my myself
but one dead makes a graveyard by design
and i have reasons to believe
that honesty is only in your mind

and these litter piles are evidence
of someone else's rotten day today
so i traded in my violins for violence
and we'll see how it plays

i can tango by myself
but one dead makes a graveyard by design
and i have reasons to believe
these things are not healed by bread and wine

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