Haute Monde

Everything beautiful is in decay You can paint the rust but not the shame A bitter storm is coming with a name Even the drugs won’t cover up your hate The gilded ones, the chosen sons The vestal daughters worshipping the sun Insurgent voices carry in the breeze Hear them calling when you’re on your knees A roaring party for the deranged The cities burning but they stay the same Holding both ends of a burning flame Now it’s too late for their breath to tame The rotting ones, the dying suns The shaking daughters cannot see the sun Mutinous voices carry on the wind Hear them calling with the shots begin No matter what you do Or what you say They never listen to you anyway Vote with a bullet Protest with flame Destroy what you love in the devils name The beautiful people won’t let you in The keepers of the flame won’t let you win The year is zero if you’re if you’re still alive To burn down the temples of their endless lie