Soldiers of Fortune in paradise
Have to tell ourselves let go
Running through their veins with water cold as ice
Oh, the seeds we sow
Oh, ta, ta, ta
Oh, ta, ta, ta
Sweet things, pretty things are dying
In the penny arcade of Edgar Allan Poe
Medicine men have all gone spying
Oh, the seeds we sow
Had a dream that you reached for me in the night
Touched me soft and slow
Everything was wrong but everything was right
Oh, the seeds we sow
Oh, ta, ta, ta
Oh, ta, ta, ta
Oh, ta, ta, ta
Oh, ta, ta, ta
Oh, oh, the seeds we sow
Oh, oh, the seeds we sow
Oh, oh, the seeds we sow
Oh, the seeds we sow