This is a story of a stormy old road that I know A sad cantilever a bottle that held up its notes A prayer for the country, the concrete that held up your skull Mutter and melody meet silence and truth be troth It's a casual thing on an evening of microphone crow So fill me with almond and leave me deaf, dumb, and choked The kids they will come out The kids they will come out They come So I will withdraw now cause enough within this world is broke