|
The sun comes up with promise and my eyes burn open wide |
|
And the sting compounds the torture from the vacant hole inside |
|
My conscious recollection of the past events all seem |
|
To verify the emotion that now envelops me |
|
Oh-oh, Dogged as a drone |
|
Oh-oh, stagnant as the stone |
|
Oh-oh, Weathered and alone |
|
Living on the fault line |
|
There's no one here to listen but there's always room for more |
|
They pretend to give you your say before they slam the door |
|
There's very little patience, and very little love |
|
There's just your constant puzzlement for what you're guilty of |
|
Oh-oh, Dogged as a drone |
|
Oh-oh, Stagnant as the stone |
|
Oh-oh, Weathered and alone |
|
Living on the fault line |
|
No one need deliver me from such a familiar place |
|
I've come to terms and work in this ribald downtrodden state |
|
It's subliminal friction under a kind of veneer |
|
And a form of cold injustice that keeps me stationed here |
|
Oh-oh, Dogged as a drone |
|
Oh-oh, Stagnant as the stone |
|
Oh-oh, Weathered and alone |
|
Living on the fault line |
