All the president's men, standing in line in their sunday best
Bastard sons of unspeakable days
The pride of the nation in the glory of men
Haven't you learned a thing?
There's a deafening sound as the Earth swallows red with regret
It's the echoes of thirty six
And she wonders what goes through your head, little man
Still the rivers run crimson and gold
Haven't you seen enough?
Still the rivers run crimson and gold
Haven't you seen enough?
It's a desperate lie, of peace and progress and the future of men
Because the ghosts you forgave should have taught you to think
But this is a fucking disgrace
Still the rivers run crimson and gold
Haven't you seen enough?
Still the rivers run crimson and gold
Haven't you seen enough?