Strings Of Change - Matt Costa

Some live off the land

Some grow tired of the old gas lamp

And some turn to strangers along the way

Some holy tramp on a desert plain

Some pour a drink and drown

Some long haired innocent swarms the crowd

Some give birth to their mother’s fiends

I’m staring at the strings of change

And some throw religion away

Some clip the nails of the hands that pay

Some will give to get in return

Strangled sex with their egos

Some pour a drink and drown

Some long haired innocent swarms the crowd

Some give birth to their mother’s fiends

I’m staring at the strings of change

I’m staring at the strings of change

Staring at the strings of change