They've got stories to tell you
Do they mean to lie or mislead
Well is it real or paranoia
The way the words have planted their seed
Fear born in subliminal fables
Aching from our heads to our feet
Keep it subtle or cartoon blatant
Whatever drags us to our knees
Well time's always ticking
right down to the bell
Every day becomes our last farewell
When everything crumbled into dust and to sand
All we have are empty hands
Their visions of dark horizons
Bring heavy sensational thrills
Keep the fires burning brighter
More fuel for the rumor mill
Well time's always ticking
Right down to the bell
Everyday becomes our last farewell
When everything's crumbled into dust and to sand
All we have are empty hands
Yeah, they've got stories to tell you
Do they mean to lie or mislead
Well is it real or paranoia
The way their words have planted their seeds
Empty hands
Empty hands
Empty hands
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