Over Here, the Weeds (acoustic)

Over Here, the Weeds (acoustic) Intro Light acoustic, but with a slightly eerie, suspended feel Verse 1 You line us up by county roads Dear Lord Like paper dolls in worker clothes Oh God We used to lean in different ways Trade our shadows in the sun Now you glide through in a silver tank Like you’re the only one Chorus You call it keeping order You call it keeping clean But every time you smooth us out You bleach the living green Verse 2 You don’t like a crooked blade Dear Lord By the spot the old dog stayed Oh God You say a field should look the same From the diner to the stars So you iron out the edges Make us who you think we are Bridge And the wind wears a stranger’s voice now Singing low and out of key Through a choir of quiet copies Of what we used to be Chorus You call it keeping order You call it keeping clean But every time you smooth us out You bleach the living green Outro Now we shimmer all identical In your curated scene Yeah, a field full of one idea Is a manufactured dream