The Crooked Kind

I heard you tellin' lies
 I heard you say you weren't born of our blood
 I know we're the crooked kind
 But you're crooked too, boy, and it shows
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 Some get dealt simple hands
 Some walk the common paths, all nice and worn
 But all folks are damaged goods
 It ain't a talk of "if," just one of "when" and "how"
 So, collect your scars and wear 'em well
 Your blood's as good an ink as any
 Go scratch your name into the clouds
 And pull 'em all down
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 The thunder plays its drum
 The air is heavy with the smell of storms
 And I sit beside my brother and feel him shake
 As he laughs himself right back to sleep
 And I'm laughin' with him
 But I smell their blood
 My fingers trace the faces in the wood
 I hear their voices somewhere in my bones
 I feel them sing along when I'm alone
 When I'm not too frightened, that is when I know
 That I'm here with everyone
 They're never truly gone
 I know it's everyone
 And I hear their songs
 Oh, I'm lost with everyone
 Shadows dance around the room
 I know their names, I carry their blood, too
 They sing forgotten songs, but I know the words
 They've been with me since I was born
 As I grew, I danced with them, too
 Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh
 Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh