Lyrics Poets of the Fall

Poets of the Fall

Fire

It's a bit like a trip, but you hit it with a slip of a tongue, like a whip, and we're sinking, it ain't

cool to be cool, though you may think it a laudable tool of self evaluation, of ego cultivation, n' I'm

rolling my eyes like the stones for the lies, is it really all about the size or just a simple vice...

Oh, and it makes the news

Oh, cos it sings the blues

I feel the fire flare alight inside me

Higher so I can see

N' aspire to survive this fight in spite of

Liars and travesty

Oh fire

Did you think that I'd blink, that I'd go and take the ink to your control, that I'd sell my soul, and

does it ring any bells that it sells that we're living out of shells in a shotgun, if we couldn't shoot,

we'd have to run, and finally the cerebral fantasy, better genes and machines, so we can die looking like

we're teens, like snapshot scenes in smithereens...

Oh, and the ones we choose

Oh, witch hunting fools

I feel the fire...

Look there it is in the news again, yeah

There it goes singing the blues again

Fire flare alight inside me...

Fire, return my joy cos I'm so

Tired, tired of me

Inspire the weary eyed to see the

Ire and Irony

Oh fire