| Her blood is our blood, too, I know
|
| And I feel all of it, too, you know
|
| You know
|
| 1936 breathing
|
| Garnet her stone, ever gleaming
|
| And Edith’s hope is for love
|
| But she doesn’t hear of her grandchildren grieving, no
|
| Eldest raised by Al Ringling
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| Spirit granted from Sing Sing
|
| All of her heart is for drugs
|
| And she doesn’t care that everyone is leaving
|
| Her blood is our blood, too, I know
|
| I feel all of it, too, you know
|
| Her blood is our blood, too, I know
|
| I feel all of it, too, you know
|
| Halfway in the hour, toward the mid of the night
|
| We met our hands despite our wicked fight
|
| Then we will sort our way around
|
| This awful mess that all our genes has thrown around
|
| Her blood is our blood, too, I know
|
| I feel all of it, too, you know
|
| Her blood is our blood, too, I know
|
| I feel all of it, too, you know |