Wet hands admitted and

Through dead nails all splitting sand

Underneath it's strychnine

Winds that change are never seen

Beasts that back to the wall and cry

Best of the hopeless never die

For God's sake forget to speak

Miles of what you've got to eat

Terminal, the playgroup says

Off to the side with an average

Blaming the dolls like heretics

Apostles or inebriates

Hold on tight, we're going to wake

Laugh to death for pity's sake

Framed for crimes that are never sold

Lies and secrets never been told

Look just like the two of us

Standing at the terminus

Framed for crimes that are never sold

Lies and secrets never been told

Look just like the two of us

Standing at the terminus

Framed for crimes that are never sold

Lies and secrets never been told

Look just like the two of us

Standing at the terminus