Custom Concern

Their custom concern for the people

Build up the monuments and steeples

To wear out our eyes

I get up just about noon

My head sends a message for me to reach for my shoes and then walk

Gotta go to work, gotta go to work, gotta have a job

Goes through the parking lot fields

Doesn't see no signs that they would yield and then thought

This'll never end, this'll never end, this'll never stop

Message read on the bathroom wall says

"I don't feel at all like I fall"

And we're losing all touch, losing all touch, building a desert