Now the reins are loose and all around the tumbleweed is tracing out your frown the furrow's on the rise the buried are alive there's trouble in the seven day dust now the veil of beasts have dragged you round you've kissed the hands of strangehold and found they bruise the neck of songbirds on their way to you we are the century's ghosts we are the century's ghosts all ribbon far let loose on the tangled curse that pierced your eye and will to carry on now the ox has blown the feathers through the oven door to make the angel wings the hallelujah sirens are singing to the aspiring there's trouble in the seven day dust float the bloated butchers on a string the supper songs are deafening and green the lucky jaws of time are sweetened by the rhyme we are the century's ghosts we are the century's ghosts we are the century's ghosts all ribbon fat let loose on the tangled curse that pierced your eye and will to carry on to the weeping dogs at ankles we can say could you ring a bell of sense to shake loose the seven day dust from the plastic trees drum terror man take me someplace new