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Marched from a burning ship into a rained out parade |
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With a bottle and a |
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Bible the dregs are armed to the teeth |
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We traded distinction and praise for the tedious claim |
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That we were wed in the trenches |
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While college boys pine for loveless exchange |
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Now we carry fragments from detonated eyes |
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Embedded under our bones |
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We've spilled blood for the sake of fitting skin to the frame |
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But our moneys is no good here |
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And our memorial has veered off the road |
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The locals will bury my wandering eyes |
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At the docks of the potters field |
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Where the rifles of ranking men |
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Are equipped with 21 silencers |
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At 'em boys, give her the gun |
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At 'em boys, give her the gun |
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I'm the richest man in town |
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I'm the richest man in town |
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Faith, stand down give your wings |
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To the boredom that resurrected my soul |
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Crash the car if the motor won't turn over |
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Glory be to |
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GodJumped from the disloyal waves back up to the bridge |
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Renounced the warmth of the turbulent grave |
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I found blood on my lips from a covetous kiss |
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And I hope that my home tips its glass to it |
