Drunk Dancer's Waltz - The Hidden Cameras

We’ve been gutted and bludgeoned beyond repair

Dance quite able, Clark Gable, beneath the stair

Fib and fable, we cradle our own regret

Oh, we blubber and stutter 'til evening’s end

No we won’t let the blood of our enemies cool

No we won’t let the blood of our fathers be cursed

No we won’t

We’ve been lovers and gluttons without a care

As we hang out and break out of our own snare

God or goddess, it’s obvious, we need a drink

Have another vodka, brother

Release the pain

No we won’t let the blood of our enemies cool

No we won’t let the sons of our fathers be used

No we won’t

And you won’t have to wander the fields all of mud

And you won’t have to squander each minute of lust

No you won’t

No we won’t let the blood of our enemies cool

No we won’t let the sons of our fathers be used

No we won’t

And you won’t have to wander the fields all of mud

And you won’t have to squander each minute of lust

No you won’t