Oceans mumble their songs to deaf ears of sands
Mountains guard their dominions until the end of time
Rivers carve hieroglyphs only read by the birds
Lion hunts antelope, hyenas fight over the corpse
Breed then kill or get killed, holy circle of life
Red sun rises again, chokes cold light of stars
I sharpen the knife
I sharpen the knife

Now the painting is done, bored models dress up
German writer, Asian poet, both expect Nobel prize
New Picasso's sketch on sale, bids mostly from Japan
Hagia Sophia gets new roof, circus hires new clown
Ballerinas bleed but dance
All music's already been played, critics are always right
And I sharpen the knife

Wooden handle
Bolster, heel
Edge of cold steel
Wooden handle
Bolster, heel
Mirror mirror
Speak to me
Speak to me
News on breakfast television drown in a shit of lies
UN troops storm Kabul, or Cairo, or Baghdad
That war was wrong but this one is so right
Cure for cancer nearly there, perfect drug, decent price
I still sharpen the knife