There they are The mob it cries for blood To twist the tale Into firewood Fan the flames With a little lie Then turn your cheek Until the fire dies The skin it peels Like the truth away What it was...
— Queens of the Stone Age
There they are The mob it cries for blood To twist the tale Into firewood Fan the flames With a little lie Then turn your cheek Until the fire dies The skin it peels Like the truth away What it was...
— Queens of the Stone Age