Cult Of Youth The Dead Sea
Some birds thrive from their own decay
And the sun was beating down
The joy to melt the frost away
For the truth was never found
For all their talk of tolerance
They threw stones at their feet
We raise our glass in shame
To drink deep
When vengence blooms like flowers
A different form of grief
So vulgar were their martyrs
So harmless were their teeth
For all their talk of tolerance
They threw stones at their feet
We raise our glass in shame
To drink deep
And the sea it nearly vanished
For their lies, they were so vast
When the laughter lost its power
They were feeding off the trash
For all their talk of tolerance
They threw stones at their feet
We raise our glass in shame
To drink deep