Don't Believe The Good News - Archers of Loaf

Home from the party,

All your face

In blood and guts.

Smells like Christmas.

Smells like dog shit.

To the problem child,

A problem smiled.

Stepping on the one

Who always wins Defender.

Drunk, stoned.

Still disabled.

Kicked in the ribs,

Hidden under the table.

Don’t dare believe it.

Don’t dare believe the news.

Don’t dare believe the good news.

Hey Missle Commander,

No one understands you.

No one lifts a hand

Standing right in front of you.

And if I see you at the show,

Then I’ll see you and you’ll know.

Exactly where we stand

In the back row.

Dreaming of the front row.

Walking all over our one true…

Don’t dare believe it.

Don’t dare believe the news.

Don’t dare believe the good news.