Слова:
Powderfinger Parables For Wooden Ears

has rearranged Crippled, dampened, lame As it goes The syrup fills my eyes The days faces fade to black And I don't feel And I can't fight For my home

Patron pushed vows aside Parents blest, shine with pride Lay child down, force inside I play on my position of trust Leave the child to self destruct

If all the people that you ever knew Pooled all their money and gave it to you Do you think you could raise enough to save your skin? Save your skin

the scars from what I've seen And my fall form grace Could it be a lesson to you? And if I trade my place Would it make it better for you?

I'll take the lead, you follow me Come and relieve the friends that I keep They're sick of me Small minded creed blisters and weeps Swallow the shit

inferior Voices inferior And the wound slowly heals Moon, raise your head From a soft horizon bead Shine on a thirsty ground Merciless sun steals the water for

Is it obvious that you have had it wrong? You're attitude and angst seem to have gone Is there no way you can be what you have said? Another self-serving

Broke her mother's heart Broke their feeble bond And I'm stripped from my love Could you find me a cure Stone by stone I build For my fathers' Born

Voices inferior And the wound slowly heals Moon raise your head From a soft horizon bead Shine on a thirsty ground Merciless sun steals the water for