Cold Brains,

Unmoved,

Untouched,

Unglued

Alone at last

no thoughts,

no mind

to rot

behind

a trail of disasters

a final the 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 the curse

abandoned hearst

we rock the salt

corroded to the bone