Sangtekst: The Arrivals. Open-Faced.

I don't want fancy chains
To dance
Bang
A bucket is fine
Humility seldom lies
It's a good sign
In these gang of four days
Tailored hair pays
Belt buckles we'll shine
Pictures, picture tubes set the minds
It's the industry line
Cheap's a word I learned in second grade
A daily dose, we're wrung from grain to grave
Bands and fans change
Rearrange frames
Find, exploit what you've found
"Man, they borrowed the New York sound
They're breaking new ground."
No, I don't want fancy chains
These old reins were driving just fine
I was born in a basement blaze
That's where I'll die trying
Good bands wake you
Feel with heart again
No one's saying play your part again
It's just a social role in fashion
Another rope hung from the brass ring
Don't; don't believe it; don't
No; they don't need you; no
I don't want fancy chains
To dance
Bang; a bucket is fine
Humility seldom lies
It's a good sign
I can sing by kerosene light
Bring on the whiskey and wine
I was born on an empty page
That's where I'll die trying