Archaeologists by Lotus Child Lyrics

Hey you, what'd you say with your sceptre in hand?
Don't lie, what am I but a sick sycophant?
Oh you pretty men with your pretty demands
Is there an honest way that I can knock 'em dead?

The capital's deserted, it's returning to the woods
Oh, don't be scared now, don't be scared

There are bodies everywhere
The silent decks of arks litter the sea
The archaeologists
They start to sift the darkest century
And now there's not enough
There's nothing here for me
Though your eyes are bright
I can't tonight

There's a blight parasite in the countryside so the camps are shipping
Lean, sweet, cuts of meat off the bodies of banished poets
They arrive, boxed up, in frozen trains
And delivered in the night to the butcher man who asks no questions
And all a-sudden, songs are budding, hearts are flooding through the square
The vines, they wind up placards and cocoon baroque hotels
Don't be scared
The mynah birds they nest themselves in TV aerials
As creepers creep across Phnom Penh
There are bodies everywhere
The silent decks of arks litter the sea
The archaeologists
They start to sift the darkest century
And now there's not enough
There's nothing here for me
Though your eyes are bright
I can't tonight

Oh, my friend
I do believe its bigger than us both
And so to open up the door and let it go
I fell into your eyes of blue
When all the rust had come

The empty city