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