Price ft. DEADPAN Lyrics

Feet planted on the last place that's untouched

Doesn't resemble the era its energy comes from

Trimmed and polished rivers that are not to be drunk from

Dim pockets wither when the posthumous sun floods

Prosperous under the cover of haze thickening

Faint whispers and the vague shape of a face splitting it

The heart of the thicket harbors the hint of its pace quickening

Under unpicked flowers arranged to be made innocent

Barren fruit and feigned dividends: guilty conscience

One nation under god picking among his filthy options

They could re-plot what the reaper sowed and it would still be rotten

They could call a rooted problem rare and it would still be common

Questions still blossom; The Garden's overgrown

Overturned stones would desecrate this stolen grove

Couldn't tell you what it hides, so I know it's home

Rest inside the bed of lies us lonely souls were shown