Dead Bodies

explosions are over the moment they happen

the slow burn is better, though half as dramatic

do'nt act as if you've lit the places i've travled

i've seen your dynamite it's more like scented candles

clear clear clear

here agaisnt your chest i'm listening

clear clear clear

finding no signs that a rhythm ever lived here

a cavity of cob webs

still mouthing the language while i'm closing your eyelids

another house burned to ash

another tennent packed the attic

with news of days passed

oily rags they couldn't part with

explosions are over and everyone is older

ryan is driving and had a couple cold ones

i memorized the roads, i do it eyes closed

i'm taking you home

clear clear clear

you're finally seeing

clear clear clear

in the ambulence ceiling

you win, though they suck of the feeling

till they know your hands are off the wheel

i'm so sick of dead bodies

who want to be backseat drivers

get back in the crowd

who wants to live

who wants to shake

who won't survive

who wants a drive-by

we won't forgive

we'll drag the lake

we'll drain the sky

(we're sorry)