Progress March - Spanish Bombs

I’m at the beginning sweating

In the grip of the lion’s jaw

I’m rolling my small town over

I’m watching these buildings fall

Once, twice and it’s dead

Pull the trigger, make the bed

They carried the body down Broadway

Held high above their heads

Old men sweat and pray

At peace or just at the end

So are we the torturer’s horse

Pulling in duty or confusion

«But we got it straight from the source»

«Well first it went through the blood and the venom»

And that poison ran its course

When we thought the world was small

In my city

Not every church a steeple

But every man

A cross to bear

«Well first it went through the blood and the venom»

And that poison ran its course

When we thought the world was small

In my city

Not every church a steeple

But every man

A cross to bear