It tears a hole into the outer skin
Throws its caution to the wind
It leaves a stain upon the cotton sheets
And makes a mockery of sin
It thinks it's winning but I know it's beat
Carves its initials on the city streets
Oh, we travel like an open wound
And get distracted by the pain
Oh, don't worry, we'll get there in the end
For the sons who need to come back home
For the ones who carve their name in stone
For the sons who breathe and breathe alone
Take your bad ideas to kingdom come
We play the songs that give us heat and light
That help us ride our weathered tracks
Whatever helps us to get through the night
And compensates for what we lack
Do I really need to spell it out
That we really need to stamp it out
Oh, Cervenka sing your words to me
To clear the dust and cheat the misery
You need to feel need to have need of low charity
You need to feel need to have need of new company
You need to feel need to have need of good history
My weapons course these veins like rusted wire
They tear me down and then they take me higher