Kensington Skies
Orange and crimson
As the light danced
For an audience of millions
We all sat there and stared
And watched on our phones
As they died
A terrible beauty
It crawled up the walls
Glared from the windows
And blew down the halls
We stood at the bottom
Powerless like children

And they speak with forked tongues
'Bout the millions they saved
Maybe they'll use it
To fill up the graves
Councillors, spokesmen
A hundred lost names
They don't even know
What to write on the graves

Kensington Skies
A pillar of blackness
That reached for the moon
And fell back as ashes
As cameramen scrambled
To capture the view
24 stories
And 10 million reasons
No inquest, no jury
It’s some kind of treason
But they’ll dust off a Lord
To maintain appearances
And they speak with forked tongues
'Bout the millions they saved
Maybe they'll use it
To fill up the graves
Councillors, spokesmen
A hundred lost names
They don't even know
What to write on the graves