The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on (x4)
With a pen in one hand, taking us and burned on kerosine
Headed for a fire would find us something to believe
Wallowing round with dirty hands on wires
Singing songs in dischord choirs

Screaming in brail, no temptress prize

could ever yield anything so real



The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on (x2)



Golden soldiers born much older than they'll ever live to be

Diving into a sea of hands in a long forgotten city

When the rain falls ever after

the swinging vines hang dead in rafters

Blood rush to (here?) your head induces of laughter endlessly



The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on

The original fire has died and long gone, but the riot inside moves on



Can't explain it, it was something to see

Can't contain something so ever real

Ever real



Can't explain it, it was something to see

Can't contain something so ever real

Ever real



The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on (x4)



(Thanks to Branca for these lyrics)