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