And while we're singing...

"Laugh. In the face of death under masthead.
Hold your breath through late breaking disasters.
Next to news of the trite.
And the codes. And the feelings that mean to be global.
Like c**e in the nose of the nobles. Keeps it alight.
And the wrath. And the riots. And the races on fire.
And the music for tanks with no red lights in sight.

Got you cryin'. Cryin'. Oh whyin'. Oh my my my.

Gold. Is another word for culture.
Leads to fattening. Of the vultures.
Till this bird can barely fly.
And Mary and David smoke dung in the trenches.
While Zion’s behavior never gets mentioned.
The writings. On your wall. And the blood on the cradle.
And the ashes you wade through. Got you callin' God's name in vain.
Leave the damned to damn it all!
's got you cryin'. Cryin'. Oh whyin'. Oh my my my.

Broken rose. Coloured glasses. Can't see for the thorns.
And you just can't stand no more!
What a clumsy kind of low. Time to take the wheel and the road.
From the masters. Take this car. Drive it straight into the wall.
Build it back up from the floor.

And stop our cryin'. Cryin'. Oh whyin'. Oh my my my.
Our cryin'. Our cryin'. Our cryin'. Still you try, try, try."

--TV on the Radio (enjambments mine)

And then there's this one, which somehow seems apropos here:

"Faceless fall. From this. Life and ah.
If you can't. See the stars.
You've probably gone too far.
Like the voice that cried.
On the lonesome tide.
Like the wave was the only love it ever saw.

"What's this dying for"?
Asks the Stork that soars. With the Owl.
High above. Canyons mighty walls.
Owl said "Death's a door, That love walks through.
In and out. In and out. Back and forth. Back and forth".

Turn from the fear. Of the storms that might be.
Oh let it free. That caged on fire thing.
Oh hold its hands. It'll feel like lightening.
Oh in your arms safe from the storms.

Sky bends. The moon's dress's slung low, slung low.
Dogstar taught a dance. It goes, it goes, it goes, it goes, it goes, it goes, it goes.
Arms out. Knees bend. The motion flows.
Like the soft. Open petals. Of a Jessica Rose.

So Sirius. So it falls apart? Just reveals the perfect nothing.
Of everything you are. Of everything we are!
Candle of life. Lights the blights and bruises.
Oh lay it down. In the night. Let it soothe this.
Oh hold its hands. And we'll know what truth is.
Oh in its arms safe from the storms."

Still TV on the Radio. Enjambments still mine. I was liking this just hearing it. I'm loving it reading and listening to it.