Joseph's Song

He writes these words on your skin
 You turn your head from him
 There's always things that can't be said
 But Joseph holds the key to them
 He lays these songs on your tongue
 But it's time to pay for what you've done
 Your scattered hopes and unpaid debts
 Are all catalogued in Joseph's head
 
 Your brother is drunk here at your side
 Waiting for your breath of life
 But how can you sing what you know to be fake?
 You'll never wash Joseph's mouth off your face
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 So scratch into this dusty wooden stage
 The history of your bliss and wasted days
 There is no place to run from Joseph's truth
 His hands are on your throat, but feeding you
 May the river tie a rope around your feet
 And drag your mind and body out to sea
 Then, paint the sky with colors dug from below
 The universal mud where Joseph grows