We all lie in a pile as the dead driver drives We all lie in a pile singing songs in straight lines We all lie in a pile as the dead driver drives We all lie in a pile singing songs all the while I could pass away Pass away and not much would be left Ashes, ashes on the ground. I guess I never left the ground Murder, murder on the walls ate night curtain calls Are heard by skeletons in closets man They'll reach out and grab your hands 'cause You've got grace on a bad day You've got grace on a bad day You've got grace throw everybody's face Under the falling eyes We hold onto this moment all our lives We all stand in a circle what's yours and what's mine? We all lie in a pile as the dead driver drives We all lie in a pile singing songs all the while I could pass away It still wouldn't feel real to me This illusion walking death holding hands with skeletons Learners, teachers will provide their own sweet style of elegant lies But I won't stop trying, no I won't stop trying You've got grace on a bad day You've got grace on a bad day You've got grace throw everybody's face Under the falling eyes