Artist: beck
Song: cold brains
Year: 1998
Cold brains
Unmoved, untouched, unglued
Alone at last
And no thoughts
No mind to rot behind
A trail of disasters
A final curse
Abandoned hearse
We ride disowned
Corroded to the bone
The fields of green
Are bent obscene
I lay upon the gravel
And a worm of hope
A hangman's rope
Pulls me one way or the other
A final curse
Abandoned hearse
We ride disowned
Corroded to the bone
A bird of song
Is heard no longer
In the evacuated heavens
And the drain is drawn
And drained and gone
And all and all it doesn't matter
A final curse
Abandoned hearse
We ride disowned
Corroded to the bone
