Sisters and cousins and brothers of the messnTell me what they said to younAnd what becomes of matters you'd like to confess are they lies despite claimed true?nAnd you'll sing oftennGotta keep him right by my sidenAnd you'll sing oftennCuz he is a nephew of minennHe doesn't know much but I think he knows the gleaming colours of the appalachain snownHe adds and subdivides different sections of the mountain sidennSo keep your wisdown, keep your mission, who knows when it will be donenI never really wanted to know and it seems as though providing lasting numbers is all the only truth to younnThey've sold all their old almanacs cuz they've got nowhere to be going tonBut in the night sometimes, when it's close to nine, with the glancing eyes that say Hey babe! Didn't realize you wanted to go anywaynnSo let's not wait for time to pass, enough's enough you knownEven if the sky's stressed it's the best quest to go way in IndianComplications of squeezed skin - it's not enough to do your head innWe could put it all to rest, we still have choice you knownIt'll break apart right down in the earth belownLike shadows in a darkened corner - words like 'are' turn into 'were'