Empty Graves

I'm a sewing machine

And everything but what she needs

And God, he knows just what I mean

I'm a sewing machine

Always stiching things back up

But I'm always looking for that stream

That takes me out under the sun somewhere

Where all love just stretches out for me

And those army boys drink hate

In the bars their bodies shake

Cause they know they ain't coming home tonight

Poor mothers know that it's too late

Just hang out all of the time now

We got all the time it takes

Cause all the time in the whole universe

Couldn't fill these empty graves

Or those vacant eyes with vision

Or these sleepy heads with dreams

Or this tin man's heart with confidence

Or these ghettos with relief

Or these suburbs with release

So just hang out all of that time now

On the clothesline of our fate

Cause we know we ain't coming home tonight

Poor mothers know that it's too late

Cause the suburbs they are frozen

And the ghettos they're in flames

And all the time in the whole universe

Couldn't fill these empty graves

Or our tables up with laughter

Or these sleepy heads with dreams

Or this tin man's heart with confidence

Or these ghettos with relief

Or these suburbs with release

Or these ghettos with relief

Or these suburbs with release