Absurd Hour

The ink dried up before you could sign the decree.
The rumors crawl up the wallpaper like trained little flies.
You hide your most sacred malice where no one can see,
While the radio set is castrating its own compromise.
The age of triumphant mediocrity beats on its drum,
We draft indictments for idols who froze in the spring.
Your righteous resentment is just a neatly sewn thumb
In a pocket where scraps of another man's vanity cling.


Who turned off the logic? Who scrambled the ledger of names?
A silent tribunal is boiling inside of a glass.
You thought it was fun, just a series of innocent games,
But the wall came alive, and the owls won't let it pass.

Припев
It’s the Absurd Hour! Time for stripped-away masks and visas!
The Absurd Hour! Look at what your vanity chooses!
We’re clipping reality with the blunt scissors of shame,
And down fall the fragile caricatures of the game!
Where reason is sleeping, the pompous delusions take power.


Words lost their gravity, turning to shrapnel and spit,
Intelligence looks like a clue that you need to erase.
The lackey is pouring a cheap imitation of wit,
While the doctor prescribes a more passive, expressionless face.
The papers are packed with solutions to crosswords long dead,
Where the murderer's name fits your own to a cynical T.
And the retired marshal counts chords inside of his head,
The ones we forgot to resolve in our midnight decree.


Letters escape from the page like rats from a barge!
Meaning is evacuated, the white flag is high!


If freedom is just a cartoon for the public at large,
Then why are your boots so reluctant to march or to try?

Припев
It’s the Absurd Hour! Time for stripped-away masks and visas!
The Absurd Hour! Look at what your vanity chooses!
We’re clipping reality with the blunt scissors of shame,
And down fall the fragile caricatures of the game!
Where reason is sleeping, the pompous delusions take power.


The absurd... hour.
The dictatorship of metaphors.
Signing off.