To which shepherd’s field
Did which angels descend?
And what’s this about eternal non-existence at the end?
A stranger’s face appeared—
They say he lost his mind
(Or too much found his mind?)
I hear it all the time
Vibrations rose in waves
From a sea of discontent
Dad used to talk about for days
I finally tasted what he meant
Your carcass on the ground
Brought vultures to their eyes
My frontal lobe is shutting down
I bet you hear it all the time
To which shepherd’s field did which angels descend?
Or is blessedness revealed to those of us who best pretend?
Some counterfeit ideas form ideas all their own
I watched them spread for years to my unsuspecting bones
And the nights my heart was tired you sang your saccharine song
But when your mouth was quiet was the sweetest sound of all
"Soon our ransomed souls will leave this age behind
For streets of solid gold", I hear it all the time
On a West Virginia road
On a West Virginia road
On a West Virginia road
I did just as I was told
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