Cold brains, unmoved, untouched, unglued Alone at last And no thoughts, no mind, to rot behind A trail of disasters
A final curse Abandoned hearse We ride, disowned Corroded to the bone
The fields of green are bent, obscene I lay upon the gravel And a worm of hope, a hangman's rope Pulls me one way or the other
A final curse Abandoned hearse
We write these songs
[Beck, Cold Brains lyrics and video on http://crocmusic.com/]
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 curse Abandoned hearse We ride, disowned 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
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