Paroled In '54

Summer blood for fighting dogs

Mardi Gras nineteen fifty-four

Oh no - he never liked Lincoln at all my child

I always thought the sun was just some hole in the sky

Till nowAs we float this corpse ashore

Paroled in 54'The four whores of the apocalypse laugh

Houses burning full of yellowed photographs

Of our children in fear disappearing from the ledge

Is God just an echo i hear in my head yeahAs we float this corpse ashore

Paroled in 54'