They are kneeling on my back in Connecticut.
And I watch for signs, but I just hurt my neck.
I believe, believe, that you’re the God of Abraham.
And you’ll strike me dead, but in the end, what the [bad word] do I care?
We can never be alone.
There’s a restlessness in our bones.
Because what if decide
that my life has been a waste?
So woe be unto us.