As we rolled from the hill to a bridge by a quarry
Legends were born from this story
Painted men, once again, turning blue like the buried
Accounts of this story are varied
And the winds blew us right over the trees
And the ancestors returned on their knees
Rusty nails on the trails, burning boards in a fury
Smoldering insects did scurry
Smashing stones, digging bones
Where the unknown are buried
Accounts of this story are varied
And the boards started to smolder again
Burning bones over the insects and men
But then warriors don't age well as it seems
When they shower you with mortgages and dreams
Was it something that you found?
That made you turn around?
Knocked you off your throne, left me here alone
Tangled in the trees, and gave you their disease!