Summer's Last Sound - Disco Inferno

And the gulls are coming in off the coast

The smell of corpses pulls them in

Mass graves uncovered, must be abroad — it can’t be here

I can sense your violence, but I still don’t understand

How when the past looks dead and you’ve got the future

In the palm of your hand

Run quick through (noble?) streets

Where killers hide

Our fruits get bricks in windows

And foreigners get hushed-up trials

And you’re waiting for a knock at the door

Which would tell you if you spent the next few years

Free from life attacked by petrol bombs

The price of bread went up five pence today

And an immigrant was kicked to death again

And I’m scared for my life for the first time in it

And we’ve known all along that a home can put your life at risk

So I guess we’ll just disperse again

And the crows are coming off the land

The easy targets lure them in

Don’t be absurd, it can’t be here

Until we find a place to settle

We’ll just keep moving on

We stay in flocks like birds, no one dares to move along

Across a sea of bleached skulls

Chased by death in all its forms

Over mountains, under suns

We shoot to kill, yet shoot for fun

Across a desert’s burning skies, we never stop to sleep and eat

Death always finds us in the end, its very shadows weeping

Over hot hamlets and plains, a killer wants to see us slain

Over fields of wheat and grain, through the endless, pouring rain

Why can we never find a safe place to land?

When we find ourselves through God’s providing hand

At the close of every day