Can we set the scene?
Tempting apples, green.
Did I hide my grin?
What’s the greater sin?
Should we take the blame?
Postulate, proclaim?
Or just point our fingers?
That can only make them linger.
We all summoned up the clowns
The mirror shouts at us.
That we’re the pretty ones.
We were bloodied in the fight
But we threw in the towel.
I feel like an ugly man.
What then should we do?
How do we subdue?
Bitch away on twitter feeds
Or just await the reaper’s deeds?
Who will we attract,
While we wait for you to act?
Burn my blood, Nimrod?
Or take the place of god?
We all summoned up the clowns
The mirror shouts at us.
That we’re the pretty ones.
We were bloodied in the fight
But we threw in the towel.
I feel like an ugly man.
Lyrics by John Berry