Postcard

Lost sight of ground
Never been so down
Nothing here to stand on
It's a war-weary road
Another faceless tombstone
Nothing here to stand on
Turn to face the wind
May never get out
Forever caught in a spin
No better place to begin
Can't find a phone
Can't hear to listen
Can't take long
What we're missing
Just as well to write
This postcard from hell
And the bar clock says three a.m
Fallout shelter sign above the door
Now the words don't come here anymore
So many miles between
I heard a dead man scream
Nothing here to stand on
Each and every step
Reeling on more or less
Nothing here to stand on
Turn to face the wind
May never get out
Forever caught in a spin
No better place to begin
Turn to face the wind
May never get out
Forever caught in a spin
No better place to begin
Tried to stay, tried to run
There's never been enough reason
To believe in anyone
This trickle-down theory
Has left all these
Pockets empty
And the bar clock says three a.m
Fallout shelter sign above the door
Now the words don't come here anymore