Make the man

Hey there, bright Peacock man
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Your gold rimmed pockets, diamond rings
Money, you know, buys everything
Your silver forked tongue
Your gilt facade
Wine and dine
When the time is right
Sweep her off her feet
Sleep real tight

Wrap myself in the best of lies
Just to prove that I still can
Display myself in a new disguise
Its the clothes that make the man

Hey there, Tin Soldier man
Yes sir, yes sir
Dog of war on a bloodied leash
Display arms walking down the street
Where does weapon end and man begin?
Point at the enemy
He will fall
Say the word
I'll kill them all

Rip the stars from the sky tonight
Just to prove that I still can
Display my scars in the best of light
Its the wounds that make the man

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Back to the Main Hall

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