When All The Signs Are Swept To Sea

When All The Signs Are Swept To Sea

When there's bridges over bridges
No wonder there's no time 
To let your grass grow
Yeah you know
We're all sinners in the innards so
You better race your boat along the beach
before there's no time left to reach

All the bitches and their kitsches
No wonder I don't know 
Which way my hair grows
Yeah do you know
We're all skin heads in the innards so
You better pinch your nose and start to speak
Before there's no time left to peak

But I don't know
Which way to go
To get me to tomorrow

And I don't know
What pace to go
To make it to tomorrow

All the preachers and the teachers
All wonder and chastisement 
While my doubt grows 
Yeah you know
And winners must be grinners so
You better hope the chosen hold the key
When all the signs are swept to sea

But I don't know
Which way we'll go
When we get to tomorrow

No, I don't know
Which face should show
To get me to tomorrow

And I don't know
I never seem to know
So just stay close
And help me through tomorrow