The Mars Volta

When the earth let you go
When the verdict is vermin
By the fork in my tongue
When you run out of sermon
When sooner or later
Is still not enough
What a foul little temptress
Your daughter's become
Deviate all by means in name
Cause we all crawl in quicksand the same
[x2]
The night I begged you to come to me
The limp in your talk and the scent of your bleed
It's still not enough roulette to let you go
You covered your wounds in a bandage of sloth
The deeper the slur that rang from her laugh
If something tells me to keep it together
How could you turn your back on me?
I've summoned the stampede of infidel feet
For all I ever wanted is all you ever flaunted
Deviate by all means in name
Cause we all crawl in quicksand the same