The bell jar descends nit fits the whole country innand the sour air sweeps through the passionless streetsnwith an obscured view younconform to consume younhead off to bed, save your questions for the endn(repeat 2)nThe fresh air ascends, nleaving you trapped within this strip-malled town but thenmoneys all run out, what will you buy nownbuy nownnthe waves push and pull the sand ntill your footprints are swallowed by the land