Motivations holds the spine up high
Forces you to bend to shape.
There is an image in the window
Shopping spring is here everyday

In the dead of the night
On the roof of our town
In the ceiling of our bedroom.
The Death of a clown

Onward to darkness to the blackness of death.
Where neonlights are flashing and the river runs red
I'm in the state of no control
I will never be the Master of my Reality.


Can you hear yourself now?
and there is a light behind the corner.
Stretch your arms a little closer
The very end of your fingertips.

Sand dust rises again
Merry go Sacrificial lamb
Keep the wheel a-rollin!
The wheel of death keeps a-rollin' on!

Onward to darkness to the blackness of death.
Where neonlights are flashing and the river runs red
I'm in the state of no control
I will never be the Master of my Reality.

Motions slowly dying.
Start turning into stone
Make a statue of ourselves and put it on to a pedestal
so amused to be virtually dead.

In the dead of the night.
On the roof of our town
In the ceiling of our bedroom
The death of a clown

Onward to darkness where no life dwells.
everybody's laughing but no one is well...
We are in the state of no control
We will never be the masters of our reality.