starin' out the window of our tour bus,nand it's just the horny driver and us.nwe sit and trade wit and smoke and we cuss,ntalking 'bout our friendly border drug bust.nand i know the future's cloudy and grey,nrecord like mine, give up or go gay.nyou're looking down at me with blue and black eyes,nspitting down a storm from purple night skies.nnand i know the concept's muddy and trite,nthat all that is large and all that is slight,nit's flowing in the stream of holy flood lights.ni've read the holy books, lord knows they bite.nbut if this is your will and my testament,ni will bow in no believe that they bent.nstill, i'm just a sperm begat from your love,nbasking in the bread and the blood of one dove.nncan i lie with you in your grave?nnthere's a crack in the edge of the end of the world,nwhere i will sit with my love in it's flourescent swirl.neat us up, break it down to the tiniest cell.nin our room with a view of the window to hell-nwhere those who bury bodies will explain what they've done,nand march through museums that repel what they've done.nshot up through the sky by the cannon of sin,nwho reluctantly let them in?nnso can i lie in your grave?ncan i lie with you in your grave.