Bono The poets and the Socrates was bounding out Their eulogies about what to do The troops with their tangled hair were proven That they didn't care about nothing new And if any body claim being king Would strum guitars And start to sing, but they were fooled The vacuum of their fantasies Had discover the fact You see that chaos rules Everybody run and bare Not exactly knowing where or why or who Chasing kicks that no one gets Kissing on her silhouettes of faded blue Trying to blow one's smoke in air Her favorite answer I don't care It was useless to And when the sun would start to fade This ritual circus of charades would start anew Love don't come don't call my name again I can't play cause I don't know how to win Too bad to and hand in hand they stride I got wind and rain for my future bright