[Verse 1] I watch you from the back row, tidying up the ruins. You use scotch tape and call it engineering. You pile up all your receipts like they're trophies you've won, little monkey man, with your shiny, empty hands. [Pre-Chorus] You think the loudest voice is the one that's right. You trade tomorrow for another good night. You put a sticker over the engine light and call the car fixed, then act surprised when you're stranded on the road again. [Chorus] Oh, little monkey man, in your paper crown, dancing for the crowd on sinking ground. You sell your stories and you buy your praise, and call this broken carnival civilization, just because it has lights. [Instrumental Break] [Verse 2] You plant a flag in a hole that someone else dug. And you call it a discovery, call it your own land. Every answer you have is an apology for a mess you made before, and you take a bow when the bandage holds for just one more day. [Chorus] Oh, little monkey man, in your paper crown, dancing for the crowd on sinking ground. You sell your stories and you buy your praise, and call this broken carnival civilization, just because it has lights. [Bridge] I used to think that mercy was the right thing to do. But giving you a hand just teaches you to ask for more. You think the whole story of the world is a book about you, and you can’t imagine it having a single page after you're gone. [Outro] So dance, little monkey man, sing your bright and hollow tune. You're clever enough to get by, but not to understand. I'm finished with the applause, I’m tired of the show, because the quiet is what remembers, long after the shouting is done.
