Four Holy Photos

Hold up a picture of a highway And a picture of a home And a picture of some money And a picture of some bones All together, all in a row But out of all those pictures You'll only notice one But it's really not important No, it's no more than a fortune It just shows what doors are open If you're looking at the home Well, your feet are scared You're looking at the road You're gonna feel restless for a while Yes, for a while, for a while If you're looking at the money Well, you benefit from the army You're looking the bones Well, you got some silly reasons in their eyes Yes, in their eyes, in their eyes This the song, this the song The song of four holy photos They never look into their own eyes It's the second closest you'll get There's settlement of foreigners In a land that they can't see Where the birds are always singing And the water runs clean But all these things Told them nothing There's a makeshift church And there's a hand that pulls a rope And the rope swings the bells As they ring into the trees And make an echo And it never stops Well, so I hung up those pictures In their foraminous place Where their mood is a little nervous But they felt they had a reason enough to stay So they stayed And no one when they looked Could even see the bones at all The leaders took the money And the others took the color of the road Yes, and the home And no one argued It was one of them who did And he spoke on what he saw And ruined his reputation He was labeled as a misfit Ah, you know That's just what saints get sometimes This the song, this the song The song of four holy photos They never look into their own eyes It's the second closest you'll get