Held Up By The Wires

Bought the old farmland for a song

Sold it for many reasons

Too many of them wrong

Horseshoe bets and the women that came along

Blind-drunk on their demon rum

Is knowledge a product of his holiness

A mad cousin to his loneliness

Maniacs in cages

And patriots and sages

A cruel old/on telling of the books

But I'll not give

Myself, to the ground

I kill more than I

Live so slowly

Live so slowly

Say one thing and then do another

Bunker down in your alsatian den

We ain't got room for your politics here

Politicians make a bad name for the con-man

And water felt like burning metal

Set off by a dying sun

Them women they circle

Like covered wagons crying

Their loved ones back from where they, gone

And I'll not give

Myself to the ground

I kill more than I

Live so slowly

Live so slowly