The Old Fisher Burial Ground

There's always music playing near the fountains
And I don't think I've ever seen the band
The people, they walk briskly through the courtyard
With their kids and plastic bags in either hand

All this waiting
And no one is calling out
The sound of footsteps
Makes room tones fade and drown

There are speakers on a pole in every corner
The wires go unchecked for days and days
Dry leaves gather at bases of buildings
What will become of here when wires fray, when wires fray

All this waiting
And no one is calling out
The sound of footsteps
Makes room tones fade and drown

Like reveille at dawn to me
The floor is shaking
All this waiting
And no one is calling out

Seven stones, they stand on city limits
With their backs to the town
No one knows the story, it's how they'd want it
It's how they wanted to be found

No escape, no relationship
No escape and only one to miss
There's the Fisher plot off highway 22
It overlooks the road from raised ground

Seven stones, they stand on city limits
With their backs to the town
No one knows the story, it's how they'd want it
It's how they wanted to be found

No escape
No relationship

I know I'm small-time
I know this city's mind
I've seen some places
So what I take and what I leave are one the same

One and the same
They're nothing