Aluminum Can Paroles

Toss me in the frying pan

I would never bite the hand

If I could be sure the hand that feeds me



Feeding frenzy on prescription words

Swallowing the silence that returns

Falling in footsteps petrified by time

Under madness are familiar faces



Chorus:
These are the seeds

That beseech the leaves for cover



Hiking canyons where people have fallen

These are places where some learn to fly

Breaking escaping molds that are growing

Stepping over cutting off the ties



Chorus