Parts & Labor
The Gold We're Digging
there's something in the gold that we're diggingthe ground is sore but the axe still fallsand still we mine for fame and for fortuneand fall asleep each night against the bankrupt wallsyour instrumentsyour tools for removaltheir every swing just quotes the ghosts of other triesso heavy now it gets hard to rememberhow they ever could have felt so lightyour lungs collapsesemi-precious but necessaryyou can clutch at dust or run for open skyoutside the wallsescaping birds chase the airbursting out into that real world blinding lightthere's something in the gold we're diggingthere's something in the air down herewill you hold whatever hand will have youwill you be what's needed year to year
From Letras Mania