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Featherless Redheads

John Coffey

Pull my head back, pull my head back, I'd better brace myself for what is to come
Pull my head back, pull my head back, yeah they always said I was a son of a gun

The rush of nations turning into routine, the race of races stopped alluring to me
The scent of a certain decay, is the state I'm going under, the state I'm going after

These are the stories of our lives. At length, the S.O.S. is set
Where the carcass lies, the vultures will gather. And oh my God I'm never coming home

The rush of nations turning into routine, the race of races stopped alluring to me
The scent of a certain decay; it's crawling up to my nose and then I know that

These are the stories of our lives. At length, the S.O.S. is set
Where the carcass lies, the vultures will gather. And oh my God I'm never coming
Home is where the heart is tonight. I can see them coming but I can't see who's right
But I can see them coming for me, I can see them coming for me

These are the stories of our lives. At length, the S.O.S. is set
This state I'm in could uphold itself forever and oh my God, I'm never coming
I can see them coming for me


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