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Hope, was not a Smith family traditionNeither was coming home sober with your paycheck still intactAt least tension was a tangible situation Unlike fate, and disease, and the cricket songs of regretWords, were not the Smith family was of discussing what they all knew was a curse in a Language children can't speakThe devil got his tongue in a state of progress finding new ways of adding more Splinters to the blood in our veinsHallelujah our little boy of ten, has reached the top of the field again and he's gone, Out like the photograph; you had perched on the mantlepieceWho's to say that if he gotten off that rattlesnake he would both survived and been Great? But he's gone just like all your other kids I assume, never to be bitten againStick by the phone til the wind dies downPray for polar ice caps to flood this town He'll call her with instructions for old and young alikeShe knows he'll disagree when she says let them dieThis ain't no disaster this is the prince of parlor teaReclaiming wooden tables on behalf of the king and queenThe contents of your stomach fall within our lavish realm guards grind them up, we can't Survive without our champagne and cologneHallelujah our little friend of god, missed his tetanus shot and he got lockjaw now he's Gone, folded like a deck of cards buried out by the wishing wellI saw his ghost looking just like he did in life, with his nose turned up at immigrant Rights now he's poised, to haunt us for eternity, I would know if I was spiritual Hallelujah our little boy of ten, has reached the top of the field againAnd he's gone, out like the photograph; you had perched on the mantlepiece who's to say That if he gotten off that rattlesnake he both have survived and been great?But he's gone, just like all your other kids I assume, never to be bitten again... Aus Songtexte Mania