My candy shop's a factory left in the woods to die Beneath this settled dust, a fertile field of treasure lies We the scavengers are hunting for the beautiful decay
From the bottom of the barrel At the market for the fleas Stale boxcars on their railroads Won over by the weeds Raid the scrapyard like a garden Wring life from rusty bones My candy shop is a vacant lot Where anything may grow
Weeping clowns with cracklin' brows piled in the old arcade Now the children are all workers still dreaming about play While the freaks stomp through the wasteland Pulling flowers from the graves
Like a vessel underwater Old mills and broken glass Like a pick-up in the backyard Tree winding through the cab This takes me down the backroads From the mansion to the shack
From the bottom of the barrel Here's something someone saved And we bring it to the table Wonder what we're gonna make Your scrapyard, my garden Or so the saying goes You turn water into dead things And I'll make the dead things grow Make the dead things grow Make the dead things growTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
