Lord I must be dreamin'
  What else could this be
  Everybody's screamin'
  Running' for the sea
    Holy lands are sinkin'
  Birds take to the sky
  The prophets are all stinking drunk
  I know the reason why
    Eyes are full of desire
  Mind is so ill at ease
  Everything is on fire
  Shit piled up to the knees
  Out of rhyme or reason
  Everyone's to blame
  Children of the season
  Don't be lame
    Sorry, you're so sorry
  Don't be sorry
  Man has known
  And now he's blown it
  Upside down and hell's the only sound
  We did an awful job
  And now they say it's nobody's fault
    Old St. Andres
  Seven years ago
  Shove it up their richters
  Red lines stop and go
  Noblemen of courage
  Listen with their ears
  Spoke but how discouragin'
  When no one really hears
    One of these day's you'll be sorry
  Too many houses on the stilt
  Three million years or just a story
  Four on the floor up to the hilt
    Out of rhyme or reason
  Everyone's to blame
  Children of the season
  Don't be lame
    Sorry, we're so sorry
  Don't be sorry
  Man has known
  And now he's blown it
  Upside down and hell's the only sound
  We did an awful job
  And now we're just a little too late
    Eyes are full of desire
  Mind is so ill at ease
  Everything is on fire
  Shit piled up in debris
    California showtime
  Five o'clock's the news
  Everybody's concubine
  Was prone to take a snooze
    Sorry, we're so sorry
  Don't be sorry
  Man has known
  And now he's blown it
  Upside down and hell's the only sound
  We did an aweful job
  And now we're just a little too late