keep quiet i said why do we have to find a reason you brush the war paint off my skin and since you are a praying man well i suggest we ask to stop the bleeding cause all this small town ammunition oh it weighs down like a fog and they re all chalked up and just spitting dust all over our hands and i wash them clean again this town s made up of lepers from the same cup poison the wells and rake the coals it s such a scheme that leaves me tired and exposed all this small town ammunition oh it weighs down like a fog but they re all chalked up and just spitting dust all over our hands and i wash them clean again my heart is burning with every urge to take the next train but what s the point of bruising for saints tryin to keep a good man new so keep quiet i said why do we have to find a reason you brush the war paint off my skin blankets of irons hang over our heads over our heads