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Sam Gleason
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Lost In A City
Fire the good preacher
He wasn't here Sunday
He must have lost his way
Send him down to the creature
Of cruel damnation
Excommunication now
You can tell him the news
As you pull him from the wreckage
Of his Cadillac seven
A slip of the hand
And you're kicked out of Heaven now
You're lost in a city
Oh, what a pity, pity
Everything's pretty
Much a mess
Looming figurines
Face of the machine
Looking for a meaning
Behind the rest
Slander all the sinners
But that is you and me
Oh, hypocrisy
And shield all the beginners
So that they only see
Part of reality
You can tell them there's no such thing as the bogey man
But that's not the master plan
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It's who they're being raised by
You're lost in a city
Oh, what a pity, pity
Everything's pretty
Much a mess
Looming figurines
Face of the machine
Looking for a meaning
Behind the rest
Lost in a city
Oh, what a pity
Everything's pretty
Much a mess
Looming figurines
Face of the machine
Looking for a meaning
You're lost in a city
Oh, what a pity, pity
Everything's pretty
Much a mess
Looming figurines
Face of the machine
Looking for a meaning
Behind the rest.
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