Cold Brains,
Unmoved,
Untouched,
Unglued
Alone at last
no thoughts,
no mind
to rot
behind
a trail of disaster
a final curse
  abandoned hearse
  we ride disowned
  corroded to the bone
the fields of green
  are bent, obscene
  i lay upon the gravel
  a worm of hope
  a hangman`s rope
  pulls me one way or the other 
a final curse
  abandoned hearse
  we write this song
  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 the curse
  abandoned hearse
  we write this song
  corroded to the bone