[Verse 1] See them march in their Sunday skin With a smile stitched neat and wide Polished shoes on their borrowed grace And a sickness they neatly hide [Verse 2] Tip their hats to a painted god Mutter prayers they don’t believe Wash their hands in a silver bowl Still got blood in the lace they weave [Pre-Chorus] Oh they talk of love in a measured tone Like a script that they once rehearsed But their eyes stay dry when the beggars cry And their pity is well dispersed [Chorus] March on, you hollow men With your hearts tucked out of sight Sing your hymns to a deafened sky In the comfort of the light March on, you hollow men Past the weak and the cast aside You can dress it up in your Sunday best But you rot on the inside [Verse 3] They were there when the great beast fell Watched it choke on the dying shore Spoke of hope while it gasped for breath Then they turned just to look for more [Verse 4] And the miller laughed in his broken home As they passed with a careful glance Dropped a coin like it meant a thing Never once did they break their stance [Bridge] Clap your hands — keep the rhythm straight Turn your heads — don’t you dare be late Blessed lies in a tidy row Feed the lie ‘til you start to glow [Break – spoken / unhinged] Go on — save him Go on — pray loud Go on — look clean Stand tall in the crowd Nothing sticks if you never feel Nothing’s lost if it’s never real [Final Chorus] March on, you hollow men With your tongues dipped gold and clean You can choke on the words you sell Still pretend what you’ve never been Yeah march on, you hollow men Let the broken fall apart For the dirtiest hands in the whole damn land Are the ones that don’t leave a mark [Outro] And the line goes on… without end or name Just a face in a lifeless chain And they walk so proud through the silent crowd While the world bleeds out in vain
