COLD BRAINS

Cold brains, unmoved Untouched, unglued Alone at last No thoughts, no mind To rot behind A trail of disasters A final curse Abandoned hearse We ride disowned Corroded to the bone The fields of green Are bent, obscene I lay upon the gravel A worm of hope A hangman's rope Pulls me one way or the other A final curse Abandoned hearse We write this song Corroded to the bone A bird of song Is heard no longer In the evacuated heavens The drain is drawn And drained and gone And on and on It doesn't matter A final curse Abandoned hearse We ride disowned Corroded to the bone