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In the beginning we rounded them up |
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All of the traitors to luck |
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And then we killed them and put all their bodies |
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Into one massive grave |
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As they approached where they'd spend their tomorrows |
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They never asked us a thing |
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When you give in to the mercy of time |
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You don't try to survive |
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You just try to get by on whatever it brings |
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When we came back to throw lye on the horses |
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There were no corpses there |
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All of the Trevors and Patricks and Davids |
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Were set to float away |
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We were not angry, we weren't disappointed |
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We were just doing our jobs |
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We barely missed them by a dangling hair |
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Up past fingertips into the air |
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As they rose up their look was rreserved |
