We Threw Gasoline on the fire and now we have stumps for arms and no eyebrows
Brilliant? A word describing something dumb You create to desecrate the villain I've become A prophet, not to be made but heard Speaks in tongues and sarcasm To me it's plain, to you absurd You don't know me let alone my intent Actions do not always self represent I don't feel urgency in explaining My conscience opaquely clear The seed is gently sown back to mother earth The flower blooms resplendent fumes A miracle rebirth The cynic in a search of something more The fragrant air cannot compare To what it was the great before Remember the good old days Remember the sound Remember the sweet mustiness underground No, I don't feel the need for relivin' Some things are better off dead Never thought the furnace Was going to burn us We worked the bellows for so long The comfort of the fire apathized us Looks like we burned ourselves alive Remember the old band we filled ears with pain Nothing to lose there was nothing to gain No I don't miss my span of attention I do miss my old friend Tim.