Rift in the Rye
There's a rift in the rye And it's better, says I Than a bloody wolf howling at the moon There's a man in his chair Who is sipping his air And wondering what's left to do
For a liter of ale Brings us hope in despair A way to tune out our conscience When insomnia wins You hear drops made of pins But we can never repair what haunts us.
We survived another night Remainders swept under the bed Hurrah Hurrah No more reason to fight Everything's left unsaid.
Decisions are made Without pomp or parade
There's no planning or intuition We can repeat our mistakes That the other one makes And we blame it on politicians
Hurrah Hurrah We survived another night Don't let it go to our heads Hurrah Hurrah We gave it a good fight Time to let bygones be dead