| Lyrics |
This one's authentic,son of a gun,a soundtrack from Chinain the universal tongue....
The world is our oysterto plunder at willthough the palats is jadedby all but the thrillof fish out of water,life in the raw...
Without understandingof what life's worth fighting for.
Out of universal languagesome stuff never translates -the reports come in clustersbut for words it's too late...
Six o'clock entertainment,tears of anguish and rage...in the zoos of the mediathe spirit of moment is caged.
There's only one languagethe whole world comprehends,there's only one messageas the darkness descends...do you still have a questionor do you retract?
There's a whole world of differencebetween the observer and the act.
They're playing world musicin Tiananmen Square.
They're playing world musicin Tiananmen Square.
The whistle of bullets in the air.
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