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Lyrics for Back Home

Creatures drag themselves on wet ground Headed towards their burial ground Years of climbing, years of dying On the bones of ancient giants And a hill forms from the death-sludge Growing tall out of the hot mud Then it hardens and it cools A rich man settles down and digs a swimming pool Ooh, huh! Sculptures hold up a six-column portico Priceless paintings nailed to trees Cadillacs lined up like cavalry And in the basement everything is painted red Except the black disco balls And the mirrors that line the halls And out back there's a man-made lake With daybeds and tire swings The town kids smoke meth and drink Behind the scrap metal heap The guesthouse lies hidden