Away

Knead my brick-like soul.

Soften the lining to a jelly

that fills the wounds of these

damned friends of mine.

Be damned,

For you are only holy if you are.

Be forgotten,

You are only worshiped if you are.

So pray away, boys.

Pray away.

Play me to my breast.

Till the fists ball up

of their own volition.

Play me 'til the strings

make no more sound.

Play me to the ground.

For I've found that music turns the tides.

Music puts depression in her eyes.

So play away, boys.

Play away.

Suck the prayers from the air.

Make it empty so we may breath.

Suck the credits from the walls

so we may turn the keys.

Suck the secrets from our lips

so we may kiss the ground.

Oh suck away, boys.

Suck away.

Stomping grounds number aplenty here.

We stomp to keep the rhythm quick in time

to the lies we tell.

The lies we tell to stumble through our past

and keep the pathways clear.

Just stomp away, boys.

Stomp away.