Skeleton - Willard Grant Conspiracy

There’s a big bird flying low

Across the open plain

There’s a big wheel turning round

Where I left your name

We could turn this car around

Admit to a mistake

Find another road

But they all look the same

All I want to do

All I want to do

Is rise

All I want to do

Is put clothes on the skeleton

It’s no good just standing there

The door is kicked

The lock is blown

Half of everything is gone

From half of everything I own

There;s an element of truth

In all that’s said and done

When there’s nothing left to lose

Like new clothes for a skeleton