1. |
(It's) Your Funeral
03:42
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When you bite the hand that feeds
you’ll soon quickly realize
the things people do for you
is how you reach new highs.
Bunkered in your shell with a moat
around the outside.
Playing king and queen by yourself.
No more watering dead plants,
the well has gone dry.
Finding hay in a needle stack,
not worth my time.
Stained glass would never be
so beautiful without light.
The Great Plains would suffer if
rain stayed up in the sky.
So why the hell did you expect
that the roof wouldn’t collapse,
when you’re pulling out the pillars
while I’m plastering the cracks in our walls.
No more watering dead plants,
the well has gone dry.
Finding hay in a needle stack,
not worth my time.
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2. |
Ghosts in the Graveyard
04:54
|
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A cavity in the mouth of the river,
gradually grows bigger and bigger.
Naturally from weather and wither,
apathy I've stopped to consider.
I'll be a ghost
before they collect my soul.
Familiarize myself
with my friends out in the catacombs.
Tenderly licking what's been hurt.
All the while picking out splinters.
But I am sold on the idea of gold
scattered among all the resilient folk.
Shine bright,
shine brighter than most.
I'll be a ghost
before they collect my soul.
Familiarize myself
with my friends out in the catacombs.
I won't be laying down until my ashes are scattered with the wind.
I won't be laying down until my ashes are scattered.
I'll be a ghost
before they collect my soul.
Familiarize myself
with my friends out in the catacombs.
I'll be a ghost.
I'll be a ghost.
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