Lyrics
The streets seem unnaturally solemn
As the vigillers’ candles burn low
There’s blood on the newspaper columns
Suggesting it’s high time to go
In the belly of the beautiful
In the belly of the beautiful
With our faux army greatcoats and tramp bags
Filled with silver engraved with our names
We march past the skeletal Reichstag
From which they apportion the blame
In the belly of the beautiful
In the belly of the beautiful
There at half-mast
Flies a flag gone insane
Elect and electorate growing estranged
Now at the dockyard we shuffle our feet
To urge some warmth into our bones
History like TV is full of repeats
So we sail for a tolerant home
In the belly of the beautiful
In the belly of the beautiful
From the belly of the beautiful
In the belly of the beautiful
Written by: Brett Mark Richardson, Kenton Johnathon Hall