I've crossed a hundred rivers today
And did not feel a thing
So soft and weak, and foolishly I'd think
That I have wisdom worth another's time
I stand wide open, filled with disdain
As though I'm owed, but long ago, for someone else's sin
But equally disgusting is the warrior, self-aware
Gazing through the muddy water as though it were clear
No world-worn weary roads, no wounds of war
We lay on dirty mattresses on the floor
All we want is more
Like blood, we flow through clogging up the veins
Of filthy highways bleeding into cities with no names
Is it any wonder we cannot meet the eyes
Of those who've built a home we helped to ruin and deny
No world-worn weary roads, no wounds of war
We lay on dirty mattresses on the floor
All we want is more
When I come across those with both feet on the ground,
Two strong hands, who tell of some bright future to be found
I start drinking myself stupid, diggin way too deep
End up begging to be held just so I can fall asleep
No world-worn weary roads, no wounds of war
We lay on dirty mattresses on the floor
All we want is more
No cloaks, no masks, no necklaces of bones
You'll find no magic here. It's best to be on your way home
So get on home
