Lots Of Brass

It tends to find you when you're at your worst
It drags you down the hill, it leaves you out to rust or find you're way back home
Everyone's nervous all of the time
Everyone's worried I'll get mine
(get outta me get outta me)
Everyone's nervous all the time
Everyone's worried I know why
(get outta me get outta me)

I'll light a fire, and watch us glow
I'll shake the hand that takes me home

All those trees with bear-trap teeth
Tried to get the best of me
And I'm so worried I can't speak
But I could sink, or I could...

It tends to find you when you're in the dirt
It hangs you out to dry it fills you up with soot
And gnarls and brambles

All those trees with bear-trap teeth
Tried to get the best of me
And I'm so worried I can't speak
But I could sink, or I could...
Dive in silently assembling my armies
From the looks of things I shouldn't carry on

I couldn't let you in it would have been the end
If they'd have found me
I fooled around instead it would have been my head
If they'd have found me