The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on (x4) 

With a pen in one hand, taking us and burned on kerosine 
Headed for a fire would find us something to believe 
Wallowing round with dirty hands on wires 
Singing songs in dischord choirs 
Screaming in brail, no temptress prize 
could ever yield anything so real 

The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on (x2) 

Golden soldiers born much older than they'll ever live to be 
Diving into a sea of hands in a long forgotten city 
When the rain falls ever after 
the swinging vines hang dead in rafters 
Blood rush to (here?) your head induces of laughter endlessly 

The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on 
The original fire has died and long gone, but the riot inside moves on 

Can't explain it, it was something to see 
Can't contain something so ever real 
Ever real 

Can't explain it, it was something to see 
Can't contain something so ever real 
Ever real 

The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on (x4)