Your eyes, they made lies true. Say anything and I would believe you. But there
were demons, maybe more than a few, so what could we do? Because in my life
there was only asbestos, and Raymond Williams, you always took the best ones.

Now, like failed pedestrian dreams, that's how it seems to me. Once again, back
out on the highway. Watch the traffic-you know it's a Friday. And all the
seats-belts in all the vans won't change your plans. You can get by on a few

sins, and you can try to make a horse win once, but you can't put back together
what you sever. The rain comes down and turns your shine back to rust. Does that
mean that you have to sever us? Someday some %#@! will come around and reverse

the earth, turn your flesh back to dust. Does that mean that you have to sever
us?