Nero's Fiddle Lyrics - Pitchfork And Lost Needles - Clutch

Sick though it may seem It has always been a dream 

Of mine to watch you drop 

Like one million freezing flies 

Psychopathic my mathematic 

Always sums to zero 

Population, your equation always equal hero 

Burn, burn 

So the fruits of your labours 

Have fermented into wine 

And the sweat that you dripped 

Is now the honey of the hive 

The city is a burning sun 

And I a blooming flower 

The fire, the flame 

The passion, the power 

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Burn, burn 

And you, your kindling, innocent 

The fruits of your labours 

Have fermented into wine 

And the sweat that you dripped 

Is now the honey of the hive 

The city is a burning sun 

And I a blooming flower 

The fire, the flame 

The passion, the power 

Burn, burn 

Photos 

The fire, the flame 

The passion, the power 

The fire, the flame 

The passion, the power