Cold Brains

Cold Brains, Unmoved, Untouched, Unglued Alone at last no thoughts, no mind to rot behind a trail of disaster a final curse abandoned hearse we ride disowned corroded to the bone the fields of green are bent, obscene i lay upon the gravel a worm of hope a hangman's rope pulls me one way or the other a final curse abandoned hearse we write this song corroded to the bone a bird of song is heard no longer in the evacuated heavens the drain is drawn and drained and gone and on and on, it doesn't matter a final the curse abandoned hearse we write this song corroded to the bone