Nickels Is Money Too
Climbing into fire, her hands are forceful
We're burying earth in earth
White hands, soft hands, carefully
This makes no sense, oh
What's that sound I hear?
What's that sound I hear?
What's that sound I hear?
What's that sound?
I'm lost in a state of confusion
Oh ground I despise you, but rejoice in your essence
Your essence
Envy will cease my sky
Greed will cease my sky
Where's a farmer that hung himself on the expectation of plenty
At this time I feel there is no bottom to Earth
Bottom to Earth
Welcome to the museum of the dead
Welcome to the museum of the dead
Endless gore becomes reality
Endless gore becomes reality
Tradition's dug the grave
The inferno has commenced, yeah
Tradition's dug the grave
The inferno has commenced