M.O.T.E.

The full moon rises above here
The pale light sweeps over town
You can hear the sound of glasses
Like chains on the saw are bound
Like chains on the saw are bound

Some living from seed to harvest
Some living from highway to bar
We may not suit the same purpose
As brothers, we haven't strayed far
As brothers, we have not strayed far

I may have one hour left in me
One hour before I go home
Well, I know I’ve not strayed from my senses
It is there I have been all along
It's there I have been all along

I'll not need a stake from you mister
I might need to take me a wife
And I will not be needing much money
And I’ll still have one hell of a life
I'll still have one hell of a life

Men of the Earth have patterns
And they're doomed to repeat them till death
By death, they'll realize they've spoken
Only ever wasting their breath

When the full moon rises above here
And the pale light sweeps over town
You can hear the sound of glasses
Like chains on the saw are bound
Like chains on the saw are bound