Oak - The Ballroom Thieves

Brave, bottles crowd the ocean floor

Bound by rot, the scapegoats

Of their salesmen on the shore

Oh, the bastards of our natural war

They may have lost this time

But no one’s keeping score

Well courage straightens up its chin

Burns the maps and runs

With upraised arms into the wind

Oh, and fortune tears it limb from limb

Says «That bed looks warm

But I’m not coming in»

Oh, now charm still spars with misbelief

Till time has rung its bell

And captained one to its knees

Oh, more stubborn than an old oak tree

And when she smiles she shows her teeth

And now havoc wreaks itself to sleep

Plunders tact and pride and sinks

Its roots in far too deep

And in this darkness only hate can see

So keep your fires burning for me

Thick skinned and never growing old

Desire cries and tries to reason with your soul

Saying I know what you need

I could keep you company

Greed grins eagerly

Says it’s goddamn easy being me