The blood of family doesn't help
I put myself back on the shelf
If Mother knows best, then Mother knows why
The Earth spun flat and the Sun burns dry
The blood of family doesn't help
I put myself back on the shelf
If Mother knows best, then Mother knows why
You have found the monsters that make us wonder
Who has human skin?
The mistakes born
Make you so very happy
In a dog pile of great men
I tried my best
To make it home
And your services
I'll cut them off
Pull me out of the stairs
Oh, the truth
I have found the people that live inside
Those dust balloons on Mars
Never mind the boring fortunate fathers
Processed in the morgues
Based in different houses that a ran a road
Between yours and mine
Feigning smiles in the vast echo of space
And biding all our time