Lletres: Portugal. The Man. Church Mouth. The Bottom.

How High. Soldiers pull boys through rain
ground to their toes ground to the dirt
(oh) my. They spilled down the steps
filed in rows like hair likes to pour
like skin loves to warm
but teeth don't pull like these chains don't
drag around
.... because it's safe at the bottom....
Wind down to the beds of the leaves
bedding of sand where fire don't burn (but
the tops of trees)
Out, out of the head streams a maze
of colors and shapes that dance from these walls
but trust don't pay like these guns don't fuck
around
.... we know it's safe at the bottom....
I know what I know, and all I ever need is you
Down, down in the sand lives alone
in shackles and bone meat blood from grown
gravel and stone
but teeth don't pull like these chains don't
drag around
.... because it's safe at the bottom....
Calm but never finds rest these bones
for what we don't know for all that we know
It's all that we've known
but trust don't pay like these guns don't fuck
around
.... we know it's safe at the bottom....
I know what I know, and all I ever need is you