Songs from the wood make you feel much better.
I've tried my best to love you all, all you hypocrites and whores with your eyes on each other and locks on your doors.
In your pomp and all your glory, you're a poorer man than me.
I'll make love to you in all good places, under black mountains and open spaces.
Did you ever get the feeling that the story's too damn real?
Too many temples where we could worship the beast.