The living-dead in Mapleton Are catatonic in their grief All they see is what is gone The Departure was a thief We gaze at pastor charlatans On the cable TV stations Gucci suits with microphones taking money for salvation They drive away in Cadillacs To glass mansions on the hill While congregants in pickup trucks Have no cash to pay their bills [Chorus] Whether Mapleton or Miracle Our grief is sure to follow Our prose becomes less lyrical Our souls become more hollow Our souls become more hollow When all we see is what is gone Our pain shifts into grief the lost, forsaken, and forlorn live in dreams for their relief On bended knees in whispered pleas chanting hallowed be thy name from caves to trees and galaxies we bathe in guilt and shame Some curry favor with their god By reading from his book Their situation never changes Because God’s a thoughtless crook [Chorus] Whether Mapleton or Miracle Our grief is sure to follow Our prose becomes less lyrical Our souls become more hollow Our souls become more hollow With rolled-up truths of paper pills stored in time-worn wooden boxes we sit at sun-splashed window sills and mumble at the paradoxes The Departure was a soul suck A trauma unexplained We looked to faith for answers All we found was grief and pain [Chorus] Whether Mapleton or Miracle Our grief is sure to follow Our prose becomes less lyrical Our souls become more hollow Our souls become more hollow
