On friendly terms the king of men holds out his hand;
the violence of the scene a distant dream
Lacking sympathy for those poor souls whose lives are kept,
parades of feet keep marching on and on… forever


Dark honey, come and burn up the sound
as we sing underground
so we'll never be found
Dark honey, not as sweet as it sounds
when there's no one around
but we're coming to town

Dark honey, come and burn up the sound
who can live underground
where they'll never be found?
Dark honey, not as sweet as it sounds
no one lives in this town
'cause they're stuck in the ground


On sitting horses, men with spears catch the flesh
of those who would dare think differently
And when the tables turn, the victim acts the same
does the heart long to live in tyranny?

Lives of service: nations, churches, schools of thought;
a spiraling staircase, which way's up?
Ages pass and these truths still remain in place
and you're no exception to the rule of law


Dark honey, come and burn up the sound
as we sing underground
so we'll never be found
Dark honey, not as sweet as it sounds
when there's no one around
but we're coming to town

Dark honey, come and burn up the sound
who can live underground
where they'll never be found?
Dark honey, not as sweet as it sounds
no one lives in this town
'cause they're stuck in the ground