Hearse Song

This is not the heart, this is just your only state of mind. Aching for equality, no bloodied hands or tired eyes. This is not the heart, this is just the place we choose to die. Lay our heads, lie our heads off, take what we need to get by. I've become a hearse with a flat tire always willing to deliver the bad news. Much too fragile to carry out the task. I've become reliant on these crimes, payment due in the form of your first born. Much too fragile to finish the job. Much too fragile to finish me off. This is not the heart, this is just your only state of mind. There is no equality, just bloodied hands or tired eyes. This is not the heart, this is just the place we chose to die. Lay our heads, lie our heads off, take what we need to get by.