It Is As It Was
The Red Paintings
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The ones who made us
Are always looking for the ones who made them
The ones who contain us
Are always looking for the ones who made them
Encounters of the third kind
Look, there's a hanging, I think I'll go ***
Three tries, he won't die
Beat him with stones so your father has some pride
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The ones who made us
Are always looking for the ones who made them
See, they want to contain us
But they're always looking for the ones
And I'm sorry that they didn't tell you about the world
And I'm sorry, I'm sorry that they didn't tell you about the world