Kickin' Up Dust

Kickin' up dust in this abandoned town
The streets are left bare, scuffed boots are scarred brown
All that remains are the settled and the scared
The rats and the dumb, defeated and the spared

No charge, no change, they'll barely hear you shout
The spores infest, rot from the inside out
No charge, no change, they'll barely hear you shout
They'll barely hear you shout!

I can't see this bleak reality
Take a one-eighty twist, so speed to atrophy
Choking on the fumes of a third rate livin'
A second rate end is far more forgiving