Young Republicans - Lower Dens

In every generation

There are those who just don’t fit in

We never asked to be this way

Born without souls or blood or skin

We’re young republicans

The doors are locked, the curtains drawn

Our silken gloves and bonnets on

You cannot pass

You’ve no appetite

To taste the burning flesh of

A supreme joy no doubt at all

We lift our heads, we lift our heads

And see the world is burning

In every neat and tidy town

We can’t help feel we’ve been let down

We never asked to be this way

No spines, no tongues, no fingerprints

We’re young republicans

The doors are locked and the blinds are drawn

Our lamb-skin gloves and bonnets on

You can’t pass

This is just for us

To taste the burning flesh of men

The greatest joy there’s ever been

We lift our heads, we lift our heads

And see the world is burning

The doors are locked, the curtains drawn

Our silken gloves and bonnets on

You cannot pass

This is all for us

The doors are locked, the lines are drawn

Our calfskin gloves and bonnets on

You can’t pass

You’ve no appetite

To taste the burning flesh of men

The greatest joy there’s ever been

We lift our heads, we lift our heads

At last, the world is burning