You wretched son You're Stretched to break This ain't your dance, You stowaway So have a smoke Some Dramamine And cleanse your soul, Good Augustine You're stepping bold On concrete paths With your sacred skin Your Roman baths Your borrowed thoughts, Your stolen threads, The dying fire Inside your head But when the end, it comes You won't find it surprising How they speak in ancient tongues At the horizon And all the charms you've kept The walls you've wept stay dark And never will they brighten I came to graze What you harvested The liturgy Of charlatans And I rise in praise Of all you've done With my supple hands My broken thumbs But when the end, it comes You won't find it surprising How they speak in ancient tongues At the horizon And all the charms you've kept The walls you've wept stay dark And never will they brighten The jury's hung The town's in drought I slipped one time And they found me out So I went to sea When I couldn't swim I pulled the sheet I settled in