Burning Season — текст песни (new model army)

I`m sick of the sight of some snot-nosed kid
Cutting a swathe through the age of deconstruction
Picking at the sores of the dying beast
And winning all the prizes for imagination
I don`t know what we`ve got to lose
But I see the statues beginning to fall
The deisel`s turning, the moon is high

Ch: What the hell are we waiting for?
I see the smoke on the blue horizon
I smell the fires of the burning season
What the hell are we waiting for?

I`m sick of the ironies piled up high
In this sneery culture with its knowing smile
I`m sick of the sermons from the Church of Unbelief
All fat, empty and anaesthetised
The emperor`s out riding naked again
I can`t believe we`re still playing this tired old game
Let`s get out there and cut him down

Ch: What the hell are we waiting for? . .

On a smoky yellow sunset, I`m sitting at the wheel
As the traffic crawls by on the ten-lane
Bumper to bumper, nowhere to nowhere into the next millenium
I see you drowning in a sea of rage
Let`s go back and get the ones who put you down here
The highway`s jammed up with disinformation
And the anaesthetic dealers are selling by the million

Ch: What the fuck are we waiting here for? . .