Cold Brains,   Unmoved,   Untouched,   Unglued   Alone at last   no thoughts,   no mind   to rot   behind   a trail of disasters   a final the 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 hearst   we rock the salt   corroded to the bone