This is a story of a stormy old road that I know
A sad cantilever a bottle that held up its notes
A prayer for the country, the concrete that held up your skull
Mutter and melody meet silence and truth be troth
It's a casual thing on an evening of microphone crow
So fill me with almond and leave me deaf, dumb, and choked
The kids they will come out
the kids they will come out
They come
So I will withdraw now cause enough within this world is broke