He writes these words on your skin
You turn your head from him
There's always things that can't be said
But Joseph holds the key to them
[Verse 2]
He lays these songs on your tongue
But its time to pay for what you've done
Your scattered holes and unpaid debts
Are all cataloged in Joseph's head
[Verse 3]
Your brother is drunk here at your side
Waiting for your breath of life
But how can you sing what you know to be fake
You'll never wash Joseph's mouth off your face
[Verse 4]
So scratch into this dusty wooden stage
The history of your blessed and wasted days
There is no place to run from Joseph's truth
His hands are on your throat, but feeding you
May the river tie a rope around your feet
And drag your mind and body out to sea
Then paint the sky with colors dug from below
The universal mud where Joseph grows