I paid for your empty empire I left you a note The ground was a bed of feathers Right where you all vote Take all of your vitriolic bad mannered ideals And leave them where I used to run From my house to the fields And don't paper Don't paper over this This And don't ever Don't ask me to exist In the land that was free You march to a loud beat and it's out of time with me There's no tears where we've gone but there are some left on my sleeve And don't paper ...