Bury the hatchet with a wandering third eye

Kick the ball and trip the bride

On withered dreams hybrid purrs

There's a ringing in the sound, a one word slur

But the bribe will stand on a stagnant line

His heart will beat then falter wide

Stretched out tall with limbs on high

There's a ringing in the sound, a muted blur

Stammered over the finish sign

Brake the car and flip the side

Laughter rings, carnations died

Applauding fingers and greedy whirs

There's a whisper in the air

Wolves of nostalgia, goaded in herds

And they all stumbled within the ropes

Hanging flesh, we're out to dry

And the only thing left is to deny