There's this place full of mountain heads. Living and chewing on the fat. Built upon that hazy rain. Like foundations slipping through the sand. Long teeth and whiskers like a cat. Fearing only those present. They got zero emotion. And everybody's fed up with that. Warm outside but very cold within. Followed and praised for many years. They got all the promotions. Isn't that the way it's always been. History's written always red. Its pages are painfull and clear. It's so full of devotion. Makes you wonder where it could have led. Put the lights out fair weather ahead. These strange new creatures.