Someone started stabbing up the trees
Someone small or down on his hands and knees
I'd hoped it would remain a mystery
If it's your son or God forbid it's me
You have no alibi without a history

I can be much more honest than I was on the news
Like back when you were hooked on phonics
But replace your words with the blues
Replace your words with the blues

Something started editing the seeds
Something wrong and vastly incomplete
God knows we could have used the calories
To line our blood and give us strength to sneeze
You have no heritage without the mystery

We can become true horrors like you watched on TV
Because we came with extra dollars for your last dignity
In these your final hours, not much left to see
Best you stay away from cowards in your moment of need
When something's gunning for your knees