Turning Brown and Torn in Two

歌詞

All the dishonesty we have contrived Masquerading as the fact Showing up the strength we lacked Closing up the way we act Photos of women I've treated as sex Turning brown and torn in two Coffee stains as their tattoo Who it is I have no clue So many races we've blithely ignored Letting slide a racial slur Till they all become a blur Expecting them to call us "sir" Then there are times we say "we" meaning "I" I guess that is that sort of time Stretching sense to make a rhyme Struggling to complete a line Religions and preachers are dead as all their gods Occultism is maybe worse I wonder sometimes which came first The cross, the mystic, or the purse People who govern are strangers to me And I'm a stranger to them too Presumably they don't know you That's why they do the job they do I have a feeling there's nothing to do But again I know there must Be something more than bones and dust Something more than creeping rust This song didn't start out so negatively It's just the kind of way songs grow