Eve of Civil War (feat. Meg Morgan)

The rain's been coming down for days We are in mud up to our knees The city's drowning in gray Gray shapes are huddled in the streets Plain-haired women pray for sun Their faces chiseled with despair Men's hands are reaching out for guns Searching for triggers in the air The puddles spread like ugly stains The children play without a sound Only the drip, drip of the rain It's as if God is pissing down Hummers rolling by, their windows black Black eyes and camouflage Kevlar vests on bodyguards Of so called businessmen and oligarchs There is no soap. There is no bread The slow moving human lines The wind drives clouds overhead In passing touches the skyline Living on the eve of civil war Awaiting civil war Living on the eve of civil war Awaiting civil war Living on the eve of civil war Awaiting civil war Living on the eve of civil war Awaiting civil war The peeling paint hangs off the walls The homeless dog digs in the trash The population's hoarding gold We no longer trust in cash Exposed branches seem to weep Cigarette butts squash underfoot Nobody cares enough to sweep The city's gray. The city's mute Hummers rolling by, their windows black Black eyes and camouflage Kevlar vests on bodyguards Of so called businessmen and oligarchs There is no soap. There is no bread The slow moving human lines The wind drives clouds overhead In passing touches the skyline Living on the eve of civil war Awaiting civil war Living on the eve of civil war Awaiting civil war Living on the eve of civil war Awaiting civil war Living on the eve of civil war Awaiting civil war Abandoned car frames bloom with rust Large cracks appear in the sidewalks The people's eyes are downcast We do not live; we all sleepwalk Only the drip, drip, drip of rain Only the drip, drip, drip of rain Only the drip, drip, drip of rain Only the drip, drip, drip