Song Lyrics
No one can hear on the outside, no one can see on the inside
And now the ghosts of alexandria, no one can see on the inside, and now the ghosts of alexandria
she was the poster child of ritual
No one will speak the name to blame, no chance for hope in a land of servitude, the dead sing
She was the poster child of ritual, a bowl of rice a day
hang in the halls like the boys on the oak
to remind us that we re only 13 knots away
She was the poster child of ritual, and now the ghosts of alexandria
It s not over., no one will speak the name to blame
it s not over.
From repeating our mistakes, she was from some place but she could not tell us where
No one can see on the inside, no one will speak the name to blame
she was from some place but she could not tell us where
To remind us that we re only 13 knots away, she was the poster child of ritual
it s not over
No one can see on the inside, it s not over The, a bowl of rice a day
No one will speak the name to blame, and now the ghosts of alexandria of, from repeating our mistakes
The dead sing, it s not over
No one can hear on the outside, from repeating our mistakes of, and we watched the summer turn to the autumn of glory
No one can hear on the outside, she was from some place but she could not tell us where, no one can hear on the outside
No one can see on the inside, she was the poster child of ritual
And now the ghosts of alexandria, no one can see on the inside Anti-Flag, no one can hear on the outside
to remind us that we are only a minimum wage away
She was the poster child of ritual, hang in the halls like the boys on the oak
from repeating our mistakes
The dead sing, labor the field like amber waves of grain
She was in love with the u.s.a, from repeating our mistakes of, the dead sing
Hang in the halls like the boys on the oak, the dead sing
No one can see on the inside, no one can see on the inside
No one will speak the name to blame, labor the field like amber waves of grain, she was in love with the u.s.a
And now the ghosts of alexandria, no one will speak the name to blame
she was the poster child of ritual
from repeating our mistakes
No one will speak the name to blame, from repeating our mistakes
No one can hear on the outside, to remind us that we are only a minimum wage away, the dead sing
it s not over.
She was in love with the u.s.a, no one can see on the inside
No one can hear on the outside, no one will speak the name to blame of, she was the poster child of ritual
It s not over, to remind us that we are only a minimum wage away
No one can see on the inside, hang in the halls like the boys on the oak
And we watched the summer turn to the autumn of glory, from repeating our mistakes
hang in the halls like the boys on the oak
She was the poster child of ritual, she was the poster child of ritual, she was from some place but she could not tell us where
No one will speak the name to blame, a bowl of rice a day
no one will speak the name to blame
no one will speak the name to blame
A bowl of rice a day, no one can hear on the outside Alexandria, labor the field like amber waves of grain
No one can see on the inside, a bowl of rice a day
The dead sing, no one can see on the inside
labor the field like amber waves of grain
labor the field like amber waves of grain
And now the ghosts of alexandria, and we watched the summer turn to the autumn of glory, no one will speak the name to blame