Search results for 'smokestack industry'

papa'd been a trapper living hand to mouth,
But when I made shop foreman, I had it all figured out,
I thanked god each and everyday
When the industry came

for days at this place in the flats
And she'd stare off into space
And draw smokestacks on her placemat
She had a dwindling grace, and a faith in

sold a lie
To the broken and the blind
Into the arms that hold the truth
The sweet eternal life

Goodbye all
Your religion's industry
Your gods are empty

I watch the river
And I'm waiting here all alone
And what I'm waiting for, oh no
I don't know
I don't know
In front of me are the smokestacks
I think