we hang our heads in the heavy house
with halls that scream a long slow no
dirty thoughts fall from my soul,
heaped like clothes upon the floor
this night has a thousand lies
that burn holes in my petty head,
flesh creeps up all the wrong walls,
itís my misfortune that youíre suspicious,
i could swear a thousand prayers and cast stone bibles into the sea,
but my lifelineís full of solitaire, yours is happy full of nothing.