Dig Down Days N' Daze

These nights are getting colder
And I'm losing my patience
The ghost of our past
Has been quietly creeping
Stabbing at our spines
Begging for an answer
Or at least a more
Appropriate way to die
These distorted pleasures
That have been given
At the denied excess
To the masses
We're fueled by greed
And fueled by the hate
And fueled by the absent minded

CHORUS
Dig down dig down dig down dig down
Into empty pockets
With an endless strife
Of the wartorn hand
And the stained glass eye
Of the mourning mother
Who weeps to quench
My dehydrated soul