a long time before radio, television or film
in days when most people could not read or write
wandering storytellers brought the news in verse and rhyme
tie the rope and cut our tongues
count the scars, see what we've done
at least i'm not the only one
at the wrong side of a loaded gun
down the pills and up the street
where the thieves and liars meet
here the animals slowly sneak
we're running fast on bloody feet
breathe the sickness, cough the air
can't believe they really left us here
i'm not the first to say it isn't fair
sew the thorns in, rip and tear
we're grey by night, white by day
became sickened with the parts we play
cut our tongues, there's nothing left to say
we're better off dead anyway
we're better off dead
we're better off
sew thorns in your sleeves to begin
then walk through the coals, see where i've been
wade through the swamp of sadness and sin
yeah raise us up, raise us up now
the battle's in the alley
and the plague is on the streets