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• Artiste: Trunks & Tales
• Titre: A Faith In Heathens (Upbringing)
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If the looks, they don't kill us I suggest we drive straight through the night Church bells they rung on the east side of town Bathed in the dawn's early light Hopped a train down to Springfield, Missouri Picked an imaginary fight Swore with this heart that I was raised wrong But I swear my momma raised me damn right She raised me damn right Stand in the bible belt, this god forsaken land Stand here with sisters and brothers Hand in unlovable hand Take ourselves back to Portland, Seattle, or Orange It's just the same If we can't live together We'll live to push through the sleet and the rain and the pain You swore you heard crickets in the basement The silence was singing my tune Faithful believers, heathens like me Congregate round the warmth of a room Now I stand with my back to the masses Here on the crossroad tonight Bring the children back into the school house A faith and a vision of free sight Those preachers said "stand with me Brother, my friend Won't you hold my hand while I pray?" And I say "no sir, These ghosts are not real I need not atone for my ways, Need not be saved" Stand on the bible belt, this god forsaken land Stand here with sisters and brothers Hand in unlovable hand Take ourselves back to Portland, Seattle, or Orange It's just the same If we can't live together We'll live to push through the sleet and the rain and the pain We've none left to gain