Power to the rebels with voices so feral When a horn bellows, spit in funnel Lying in the meadows Wiring under shadow When a storm meddles, strip then pummel As I rely so much on trying to tie us to a floating piece of wood And dry the glue in eyes to look inside I get it done just for you Lately I don't know how to please right Multiple times it didn't seem to do us good at all Amazing frame that was once so crude Sorry for this, keeping account Where are we going to I'm in no mood for that game you play Don't measure me going all the way