Watchmen with their eyes closed
Ransom and a scripture by the picture of your face
Messages the rhymes chose
Blueprint for contrition in a cigarette case
Everybody knows, son
Everybody knows what you’ve done
Everybody knows, son
Everybody knows exactly what you’ve done
Charles was alive then
Towering like a mountain at the silver trumpet blast
William still alive till when
Our altars are all emptied of his offerings to the last
Everybody knows, son
Everybody knows just what you’ve done
Everybody knows, son
And so again it goes you can’t end what you’ve begun
Surely as the Sun
Early on the east side comes
Before my sleepless eyes
Your features metamorphize
Surely as the Sun
Early on the east side comes
If only you had known
How soon you’d be on your own
How suddenly they’d cast the stone
When the mouths of praise and blame start to sound the same
And you’ve asked they please not come back around
And yet they happen by, you can offer my reply
There’s tortoises all the way down
Since the night you came
Dressed up in your righteous name
All you claim to see
Doesn’t mean a thing to me
Surely as the Sun
Early on the east side comes
I know I’m not the only one
Whose blindfold and a scale ship refused to sail
And yet failed since each search for solid ground
You sing to me at night as the moving finger writes
On tortoises all the way down
You think that glass of wine could cancel half a line?
But it won’t wash our words out this time
And I’m not the only one who’s got nowhere to run
‘Cause everybody knows, son
Everybody knows just what you’ve done
Everybody knows, son
Everybody knows what you’ve done
While all hiding inside our painting of a house
Hung up inside that same painted house
Which ever implies another painted house inside lives
Serpent in the sky lives
Servants of the least high
Most tortoiseless lives
Would you meet me sometime soon, son
Down by the riverside?
There’s room enough in my paradise
My empty little mind
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