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Brown Bird
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Some Boys' Scars
I enjoy your sense of sadness
So I endure your happy thoughts
I disguise disease as madness
You could see the scars
In the blackness of my heart
Some boys bide their time distilling
Carboys full of homemade wine
While the ladies drink their fill in
And stumble down the hall
Causing other birds to brawl
A man ain't worth his matter
If he don't work for a dime
And he don't improve the silence when he
Starts to speak his mind
'Cause the air is hot enough here
Takes a blizzard to cool it down
And the snowflakes are prayers answered
Blocking out unwanted sounds
Like empty words of politicians
Who variate the pitch of their useless noise
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And the airwaves filled with fools
Kissing the asses of big important boys
Signs are dead
On your end
Signs are dead
On your end
Signs are dead
On your end
Signs are dead
On your end
Signs are dead
On your end
Signs are dead
On your end
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