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Some live off the land |
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Some grow tired of the old gas lamp |
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And some turn to strangers along the way |
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Some holy tramp on a desert plain |
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Some pour a drink and drown |
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Some long haired innocent swarms the crowd |
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Some give birth to their mother's fiends |
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I'm staring at the strings of change |
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And some throw religion away |
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Some clip the nails of the hands that pay |
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Some will give to get in return |
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Strangled sex with their egos |
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Some pour a drink and drown |
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Some long haired innocent swarms the crowd |
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Some give birth to their mother's fiends |
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I'm staring at the strings of change |
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I'm staring at the strings of change |
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Staring at the strings of change |
