Thrice
"Paper Tigers"


They preach to the choir, always in the permanent daylight
They toss paper tigers from their perfect porcelain skylines, shatterproof
spires
Listen for the sound, as it all comes crashing down
They light the world on fire, just to watch it burn
It'll be their funeral pyre, but they never seem to learn
And we paid the price, we paid for their crimes with our blood