Beck - Cold Brains

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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

© BMG SONGS, INC.; CYANIDE BREATHMINT MUSIC;




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