The Empire Strikes First

Somewhere high in the desert near a curtain of a blue St. Anne's skirts are billowing But down here in the city of the lime lights The fans of santa ana are withering And you can't deny that living is easy If you never look behind the scenery It's sh

Right now! Well it's finally time to face my fears Gonna get the hell out of here And create a fresher atmosphere But the consequence is clear There's a furnace set on high And a yearning underfined But it's time to turn the tide It's social suicide