The Crooked Kind

I heard you tellin' lies

I heard you say you weren't born of our blood

I know we're the crooked kind

But you're crooked too, boy, and it shows

Some get dealt simple hands

Some walk the common paths, all nice and worn

But all folks are damaged goods

It ain't a talk of "if," just one of "when" and "how"

So, collect your scars and wear 'em well

Your blood's a good an ink as any

Go scratch your name into the clouds

And pull 'em all... down

The thunder plays it's drum

The air is heavy with the smell of storms

And I sit beside my brother and I feel him shake

As he laughs himself right back to sleep

And I'm laughin' with him

But I smell their blood

My finger's trace their faces in the wood

I hear their voices somewhere in my bones

I feel them sing along when I'm alone

When I'm not too frightened that is when I know

That I'm here with everyone

They're never truly gone

I know it's everyone

And I hear their songs

Oh, I'm lost with everyone

Shadows dance around the room

I know their names

I carry their blood too

They sing forgotten songs

But I know the words

They've been with me since I was born

As I grew I danced with them too