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Once the world was a wind-up toy, we watched it spin and dance
We watch it now from the other side of our last remaining chance
And the world falls down like some tired bull in a crimson Spanish ring
We've learned to love it far too late to save it from anything
Once we dreamed of a soft romance where lovers were sweet and kind
But gentle men and ladies fair we never seem to find
And so we've settled in lands of lust where decadent passions play
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And we burn with fever through the night and burn with shame all day
And when the children ask us why as we know the children must
Why all our world and all our dreams came down to pain and dust
Will we blame it on the ones before who never answered our whys
Or admit we questioned far to late to save this dream that dies
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