How High. Soldiers pull boys through rain
|
ground to their toes ground to the dirt
|
(oh) my. They spilled down the steps
|
filed in rows like hair likes to pour
|
like skin loves to warm
|
but teeth don't pull like these chains don't drag around
|
.... because it's safe at the bottom....
|
Wind down to the beds of the leaves
|
bedding of sand where fire don't burn (but
|
the tops of trees)
|
Out, out of the head streams a maze
|
of colors and shapes that dance from these walls
|
but trust don't pay like these guns don't fuck around
|
.... we know it's safe at the bottom....
|
I know what I know, and all I ever need is you
|
Down, down in the sand lives alone
|
in shackles and bone meat blood from grown
|
gravel and stone
|
but teeth don't pull like these chains don't drag around
|
.... because it's safe at the bottom....
|
Calm but never finds rest these bones
|
for what we don't know for all that we know
|
It's all that we've known
|
but trust don't pay like these guns don't fuck around
|
.... we know it's safe at the bottom....
|
I know what I know, and all I ever need is you
|
|
-----------------
|
The Bottom
|
Portugal. The Man |