Language Of The Dead Songtext

Fads of the 60's and the 19th century.
Leo Tolstoy and Robert E. Lee.
We got a war on in our duplicity,
suburban white blasphemy.

Everybody talkin' bout the language of the dead.
Antiquated murmurs maybe Dylan might've said.
Well I'm not so self assured,
I can barely sing a word.

You can skim through every book they read,
you can dress a little smarter and claim your hit.
But the weight you've been seeking, you lifted it.
Plagiarize the twenties you never lived.

Take this lightning off of me,
too wonderful for me to keep.
Throw your idols into the sea.
Dreamers, get your own dream.
Everybody talkin' bout the language of the dead.
Antiquated murmurs maybe Dylan might've said.
Well I'm not so self assured,
I can barely sing a word.
Well I'm not so self assured.
But I don't need to lift a word.