Testo French Broom

Wasting must
Sure look good on us
We’ll tell you when we’ve had enough
Of sifting
Answers from the dust
Painted rust
On the railroad truss
We know where it will carry us To a place we
Once were nameless
Won’t you tell them
We’re all doing just fine
The water’s swelling
Must be a state of mind
Take her stone
Out from the catacombs
I promise none
Will ever know
Who's there to tell them
But the bones?
Tell the crows
We know what they know
And hell, if they still want to go We’ll meet them
On the willow road
But won’t you tell them
We’re all doing just fine
All this melting
Must be all in our minds
Were we hellbent
Were we wrong the whole time
This malignance
Burning out the inside