(Sullivan) 1989
Across the flatlands we came out of nowhere special
Like a peasant revolution - makeshift weapons in our hands
We crashed the gates so hard we'd never heard that kind of sound before
And braced ourselves for victory and the spoils of the land
Defences melt away before our frozen blank surprise
From the palace now we stare into a million waiting eyes
Ch: I've got my trophies on the wall, the heads I've hunted down the hall
And I guard my winnings well, carry them with me when I fall
Now the daylight hours pass like the people I have lost
In the triumph of the hour, in the bloody cause - lust for power
Like a vision she dances through the shafts of light
Everything I've ever dreamed about focused true and bright
And fortune opens up the ground, blackens out the sky
I kissed her once, I kissed her twice but I couldn't remember why
When I was young they taught me well to always play to win
But they never said what happens when you've won the bloody game
Ch: I've got my trophies on the wall. . .
And all desire is satisfied but still the hunt goes on
It's funny how this feeling stays with all the reasons gone
We've seen them fat and bloated those who once could hold a flame
I've run for home and words gone by but nothing seems the same
I can watch the world in secrecy from one side of this glass
From the other my reflection and I don't know which is worse
The streets are lined with glittering stores and a million fatted calves
I can catch myself sometimes these days and all I do is laugh, laugh
Ch: I've got my trophies on the wall . . .
Published by Attack Attack Music/Warner Chappell Music Ltd
