The Tommyknockers - Nightmares

Will the oil that we crave sink into our veins and then replace

All forms of grace?

We are masochistic forms of disaster

With the dignity to swallow everything that we see

But the pride in our teeth

Heart of gold (x6)

Can the sun beat me down further then six feet in the ground?

Cause when the sky has dried and words of men ceased

Where will your soul rot and will it find peace?

Heart of gold (x6)