You felt the scorching sun burn your pale and streaky face
You spied the horses in the fields, through eyes devoid of grace
Another stone you fired from your scrawny tattooed hands
You were there when not wanted and when needed you were gone
The trees fell hard and fast and they did burn bright as they fell
The factory clock, the siren wail, did sound the evening's knell
Inside the walls the animal screams, they shot the evening sky
It was the soundtrack to the ballgame on the green that was once mine
There never was a quiet calm before the raging storm
The ripples were always there on the lake by early morn
The sycamores crack loudly from the wild and roaring wind
And deep unearthed rumblings always grow into a din
You lay down in the trees one day when no one was around
You were scorched, then you were frozen, you were lost, then you were found
"I curse them all to hell" those words you ranted and you raved
And by the mercy of Lord God you'd be the one he'd surely save
Whispering fumes that made you reel, they swirled inside your brain
There was seeping gas, brown globs of glue, blue smoke and pots of paint
Morning robbing, evening selling, people slogged and people scored
On came the burning flames, on came the shouts, on came the roars
The hard rain it did fall so fast but you seemed not to care
You staggered through the flood plain and you never showed your fear
You then buried your own skull down in the deep and darkened soil
And you never lost not even once, you cheated your own fall
Is it dark or is it bright now? Do you feel the cold, cold air?
Does time remain so still? Or does it change from year to year?
Will you rise up in the spring and stretch your body in the morn?
Will you hold your head up high and will you weather many storms?
There never was a quiet calm before the raging storm
The ripples were always there on the lake by early morn
The sycamores crack loudly from the wild and roaring wind
And deep unearthed rumblings always grow into a din
I dream sometimes you drag my ragged soul across the sands
And I hang onto its threadbare ends with filthy bleeding hands
I look up at the burning sun and beads hang on my chest
And twelve women walk the mountain path with tears on every dress
One thousand skulls fly past me on a train that loudly screams
One thousand brains in muddled thoughts of a thousand lonely dreams
I see a million candles in the high rise window panes
And in the slipstream of my slumber I awake to a new day
In the slipstream of my slumber I awake to a new day