The Messenger Lyrics

There are fleeting fits of reason between the sleeping and the drinks
Where a million different sensory experiences blink
And it??s there within the momentary darkness you can breathe
Be a form without reflection or debris
There are bloody bouts of tenderness against the bonds of fear
Facing combat everlasting, vultures circle ever near
Now they??re placing bets deciding who will be the first to feast
We can flood the battlefield with something weak
Barrel chested bankers buying billboards by the score
Placing all their eggs in baskets made of future funeral wars
Now their children fight in microcosmic mirrors of their game
And the messenger will always be to blame
There are centuries of seasons turning white to green to brown
Cycling through each sort of sequence, turning temperaments around
These incessant spinning seasons making dizzy all our days
We??ll succumb to something stranger anyway
Some disaster in a story ending brand new day
Barrel chested bankers buying billboards by the score
Placing all their eggs in baskets made of future funeral wars
Now their children fight in microcosmic mirrors of their game
And the messenger will always be to blame
And the messenger will always be to blame