Lining your banks on all sides
Mausoleums and Sarcophagi
All perfumed and shaved and tucked into their graves
Where the evils of comfort abide
I won't feel better in the morning
No I won't feel better at all
Maybe lassitude pours from these Cracker Jack mores
But I'll never feel better at all
So river like a vein won't you carry me to the heart of this beast
There I will lie and be buried though I shall never be released
I show up on Easter Sunday
With a black eye right there on my face
Said they, who busted you?
I said, God and don't you know he's just trying to find his range
So river like a vein won't you carry me to the hear of this beast
There I will die and be buried though I shall never be released
