Dead kites in farmer's fields
The jailed dreamers are growing gills
So eat it up, you maniacs
Eat the whole things, you maniacs


The possibilities of open skies
The worms rule as silent kings
So eat it up, you fatso's
Gobble the whole thing, you fatso's

Baby be absolutely quiet
As we untie the boat
And push ourselves from shore
We'll remember you, you poor souls
You poor slaves
They're building a city
On your broken backs
And what of your own fires?
We're leaving you now
When your cinders are so cold

Lyrics submitted by Zeaquada

Maniacs song meanings
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