The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on (x4)

With a pen in one hand, taking us and burned on kerosine
Headed for a fire would find us something to believe
Wallowing round with dirty hands on wires
Singing songs in dischord choirs
Screaming in brail, no temptress prize
could ever yield anything so real

The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on (x2)

Golden soldiers born much older than they'll ever live to be
Diving into a sea of hands in a long forgotten city
When the rain falls ever after
the swinging vines hang dead in rafters
Blood rush to (here?) your head induces of laughter endlessly

The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on
The original fire has died and long gone, but the riot inside moves on

Can't explain it, it was something to see
Can't contain something so ever real
Ever real

Can't explain it, it was something to see
Can't contain something so ever real
Ever real

The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on (x4)