This is my home, this is my own, we don't like no strangers
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Raise the kids good, beat the kids good and tie them up
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Spread it wide, my wife, my life, push the camera deeper
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I can use, I abuse, my muse, I made them all
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This machine
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Is there to please
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Strip the soul
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Fill the hole
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A fire to feed
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A belt to bleed
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Strip the soul
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Kill them all
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They are not gone, they are not gone, they are only sleeping
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In graves, in ways, in clay, underneath the floor
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Building walls, overalls, getting bored, I got faulty wiring
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Brick it up now, brick it up now, but keep the bones
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(Do you want a western home in the rubble ?)
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Strip The Soul
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Porcupine Tree |