Hurt-&-Stone
This path is made of hurt and stone
But I follow it anyway
Hard to believe the truth was sold
As a script for my tragic play
Oh, now the days pass by in years
Living the American scream
Shed rolling purple heart shaped tears
Nothing is ever what it seems
Carve the sad flesh wrist so crimson
Walk the questions of tomorrow
Loathing in this mental prison
Sinking in this sea of sorrow
Oh, now the minutes seem to die
When creation starts to expire
But now I’ve found the other guy
The other guy begins to tire
