作曲 : Congleton
Grandfather burned up to ash and returned to the earth which spawned 
This nefarious prank that’s controlled by the length of his arms 
And the kindred is gathered by coffin and chaplain on his behalf 
And a discreet tender man clears his throat, waves his hand following a laugh 
And the band plays on 
Like a fat baby’s birth like a cry and curse at the breathing space 
While the mother rejoices ten fingers ten toes and a handsome face 
And the family is gasping each one can’t help asking, “
How was it my dear?” 
Like a scorn for the born that was torn 
And deformed for the next cruel years 
And the band plays on 
So I’ll cut you all open and see what’s inside you or what’s missing 
While this virgin your daughter skirt down the altar 
She don’t owe you a goddamn thing 
Cause she’s gorgeous 
I’ll take her to the house by the lake where 
I write her a song 
While you fat pigs with call-girls 
They dance in the ballrooms shaking their wallets at god 
And the notes fill the pages as 
I scramble to paste up my bleeding heart 
And this sick song moves on if you’re lucky lifelong you can sing a part 
As it falls apart