Cold Press Rail Songtext
von Chris Bathgate

I quit my shoes for a big boat baby
Now I have my hands on a cold press rail
I cut my shape out of plastic and nylon
Now I have a cage made of rosewood and steel
I have a knife for a cuff that can capture
And I have a cuff for a collar that hails
I have my states you have words you attain
So I drank my thimble and ordered a pail I let my feet fall from four forty stories
Onto a platform of solder and steam
I have a brow that was born to betray me
And I may be gone but not quite to bury
I have my states you have words to attain
More than the crumbs I bled for this evening
I saw true life just lie dead before me
And I called it god and know I′m its son