Broad are these shoulders but heavy the weight
Sit alone in my room, where there ain't nothing to trace
No paper trails honey, now that's such a waste, isn't it?
Well isn't it?
Every intention come apart in the rust
From machines onto mountains, greeting ashes and dust
Given sterilized handshakes, made for people we've cussed, haven't we?
Well haven't we?
No one wants to say anything, no one wants to say
No one wants to say anything, no one wants to stay
Broad are these shoulders but heavy the weight
Sit alone in my room, where there ain't nothing to trace
No paper trails honey, now that's such a waste, isn't it?
Well isn't it?