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Willard Grant Conspiracy



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Willard Grant Conspiracy

Skeleton

There's a big bird flying low
Across the open plain
There's a big wheel turning round
Where I left your name

We could turn this car around
Admit to a mistake
Find another road
But they all look the same

All I want to do
All I want to do
Is rise
All I want to do
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Is put clothes on the skeleton

It's no good just standing there
The door is kicked
The lock is blown
Half of everything is gone
From half of everything I own

There;s an element of truth
in all that's said and done
when there's nothing left to lose
like new clothes for a skeleton