Each sunrise brings with it a newfound glory,
We follow it round, today s the last time I ll try,
Oh, naked moon, teaches us all a different story,
The summer priests are fading, with the lies they ve spooled.

I made my bed, rose to face a brand new morning,
I shaved my head, took a shower, slipped away,
Some naked girl, basking in the sky above me,
I turned away, felt guilty, slit my wrist then shined my shoes.

I know how it s done.

Your cold-hearted room, shields me from the heat of the matter,
I licked you there, and that taste was so divine,
Jumped up to my feet, stared at the ice cold waters,
The waters drowned the daughters of the motherless swine.

The city heaves a sigh, tired and labelled, yawning,
It s much too soon, to pass judgment on this boy,
But the false-hearted judge, had already passed sentence,
The sentence to wander with a Tantalus design.

I know what this means to me,
I know how it all should be,
I know how to set this free,
I know how it s done.

The shallow grave, stuck between a rank and a new beginning,
This sweet charade, held my thoughts in time,
The gentleman he sang, Father, He who art in heaven,
His voice was sweet, but sweetness sometimes has a bitter pang.

And in these clothes I stand, never been much of a fighter,
But I ve taken hits, took beatings from the law,
But blood is just a sign, that this soul is still in working order,
But the order and disorder holding hands march straight through time.

I know what this means to me,
I know how it all should be,
I know how to set this free,
I know how it s done.

I held my head, pain and anguish, emotions of sadness,
The gold idol grinned, and my teeth ached my head,
A second chance, to become a friend to the martyr,
But set in my ways, stood naked, listening to the mission bell.

And God only knows, just what it is that mind of yours is thinking,
Sweetness so sublime, is this doing me some harm?
You swear on an oath, that you just want the world to be happy,
But happy s not your mission, can t you see it can t be done?

I know what this means to me,
I know how it all should be,
I know how to set this free,
I know how it s done.

You re clad in all your chic; you re the kind I d gladly die for,
A feeling so strong, like the baggage that I drag,
I ll mutter something soon, and then drive you to distraction,
But soon I ll uncover, discover, what s shrouded there beneath.

The spider spins its web, whispers Mr Fly, come into my parlour,
The trap is set; now just wait to get things done,
I stole into the room, but there ain t nothing in here worth stealing,
But it s healing, to witness, the setting of the sun.

I know what this means to me,
I know how it all should be,
I know how to set this free,
I know how it s done.

I m searching for the proof, that these words aren t just empty,
But all I can find, is the contents don t mean too much,
And I don t have the strength, to stand up and make you prove it,
Yes I m frightened the truth won t be so easy to take.

And who am I? Why the hell should I feel so important?
What have I done to make you give a damn, Marie?
It s just that bed, changes every time we roll in it,
And we ve seen it; been in it, during the setting of the sun.

I know what this means to me,
I know how it all should be,
I know how to set this free,
I know how it s done.

Now follow me down, I ll show you where saints are singing,
The virgin s abound, with a desire that burns so hot,
I ll make things right, oh, and fate has turned it s magic,
But why magic? It s tragic, that we ll never see it done.

Now silence falls, everywhere you look is tinged with darkness,
The police yell, freeze! Hands up and drop your gun!
And pity the fool, felt he d have to take one more shot,
That was his lot. His last chance to see the setting of the sun.

And the rich man in a poor grave sees the setting of the sun.
The setting of the sun.
The setting of the sun.