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Brown hair in a bird's nest, a pile of teeth under a tree |
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The frayed sleeves of a poorly tailored jacket |
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Another wasted night searching for life |
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Digging up graves 'cause I've got something to say to the dead and buried |
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You know how my mind, it drifts |
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A small boat lost at sea, callow and rudderless to say the least |
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I swear on my mother's gravy that I didn't lie to you |
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I was only as usual confused |
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It was wrong of me to curse your family's name |
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And your faith and an answering machine |
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That I knew it didn't know how to use |
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For how long must I lie awake? |
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For how many long nights shall I keep digging up graves? |
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I swear on my mother's gravy that I didn't lie to you |
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I just didn't tell the truth |
