Dead Lyrics

Straight from above come down

Whistling whooshing the air

Around my head

The time for the dead

Speeding down road right through the fog

Don't put yourself outside the window as we speed on down that road

The caller of the dead

Her flew into a great tower

On those bedsheets with wings made in his uncles garage

The metal of the dead

Swooped down from above

Caught in those great headwinds at the point of the mountain

Where the motorcycles play

Swooped down that day on the tower

Fried by ten million volts of power

The call of the dead

The call to the dead

Make your hand go up and down the land

Into the unknown this hand is like poison

The call to the dead

Fire fire couch and clothes on fire

Closed up inside that mobile home casket

Burn burn burned alive

Is this where we come to die

That hollow sum of life

That call to the dead