Low Low

I cast a lure into the river

To see what I could get

Cause when everythings delivered

To the store, such a bore, not much love in it

And in all the run, run, rush

I bite my tongue and push but I don’t think that much

And then the smoke pours out my ears

A thousand years of history now we’re burning ourselves up

Cause when you burn yourself alive

It turns into smoke that you

Hope will rise

So you can see clear through your eyes

I try to cut through all the chatter

But now its on all the time

Well if you’re climbing up the ladder

How come you feel so low, low?

And then the smoke pours out your ears

A thousand years of history...