Hunters & Collectors The Way To Go Out
Well the air was so light it fell like a feather Fell down upon the land where the people walked Well I ran and I ran from one house to another I sweated out the fear that the boss-god taught I saw a rusty old woman giving birth in the gutter I went down upon my knees when the little tacker talked And the way to go out was in a bottle of fear In a body of anger and a gut full of beer And Mt Nameless was listening, listening, listening, listening Mt Nameless was listening Well her hair was so light it fell like a feather Fell down upon the line in the people's court And she walked though the door with her hands tied together Spitting on the faces that the boss-god bought And that rusty old woman's giving birth in the gutter I went down upon my knees when the little tacker talked And Mt Nameless was listening, listening, listening, listening Mt Nameless was listening And the way to go out The way to go out, the way to go out The way to go out was clear
