words and music by Stephen Barling

The air smells funny
it's crazy round here
we are not alone
is the least of our fears
if the microbes aint creepin'
and the meteors're calm
before the dead go to sleepin'
the doctors're waiting to embalm them all

On the path back to nowhere
twisted lies do await
tip your hat to the horseman
as he matches your gait
ain't no prayer that can save you
as he passes you by
cross your heart, thank your neighbor
and his needly eye

Hope it's just the gremlins
hunt you down like gold
cause if it's just the gremlins
we won't ever grow old

From the sinkful of dishes
to the end table stand
keep your box pullin' wishes
to your ice-glassy hand
but not one of those wishes
can escape from the box
'til that hand stops being viscious
with the cradle it rocks

You can live on bread
and the water of life
but you can't strike no deals
with the soothsayer's wife
ain't no prayer for forgiveness
ain't no philosopher's pill
just a well in the darkness
where the lifewater's spilling free