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Pitchblende
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Sawed Off City
sun sets slow, leaves a sticky glaze in it's path
progress' pace is paralyzed
they took an axe and whacked and hacked and chopped the town in half;
cut it to size revealing bluer skies
here's the place where makeshift men die TV deaths; in this town we live close
to the ground
bright light hurts my eyes, i care even less for the city
this is the square where they all stared each other down; here's the car that
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drove them straight up the wall
where's the barrel that blinded everyone with it's glare
cracked, but the act will stand the test of time
here's the place where makeshift men die TV deaths; in this town we live close
to the ground
bright light hurts my eyes, i care even less for the city
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