When the city banks empty out
It's no mystery, the kings and queens
Standing there against the grain
Mathy eyes trained to look away
Paper spindles handing out a sermon
For the age of doubt
Mythic histories leave us bowing in our disbelief
We wait for the fog to lift In the morning roads of the turning earth
And the discarded gods sit at their altars
In the shadows of the buildings that will ruin our brothers
We try our hardest to disappear behind the words we've created
To sedate each fear
When the city banks empty out
It's no mystery, the new disease
And the vaccines only feed it
Standing there against the grain
My old friends trained to look away
Mythic histories leave us bowing in our disbelief
We wait for the fog to lift In the morning roads of the turning earth
Mythic histories leave us bowing in our disbelief
We wait for the fog to lift In the morning roads of the turning earth
When the systems start to run themselves
You take a seat, put up your feet
And watch as your beautiful child lifts a pillow to your face

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