If dust could only talk
What would we hear it say?
Before it's brushed aside
Just as it's swept away
It's just the evidence
It's of no consequence
It's only flesh and bone
Why don't you leave it alone?
If dust could only speak
Caught in a falling beam
If dust could only cry
If dust could only scream
For it's the single witness that might testify
Could I spit out the truth?
Or would you rather just swallow a lie?
But dust is always caught behind a coat of paint
Beneath the marble fingernails of kings and saints
And in the theater curtain where they hang a drape
Or in the ticket pocket where your hands escape
Before they start to wander
Or they start to shrink
You rub your eye a little and appear to blink
And then she caught you staring
She knows just what you're thinking
What got into you was not a ghost as such
It was just dust
Here comes the juggernaut
Here come the poisoners
They choke the life and land
And rob the joy from us
Why do they taste of sugar
Oh, when they're made of money
Here comes the lamb of God
And the butcher's boy, Sonny
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Copy to Clipboard: If dust could only talk
What would we hear it say?
Before it's brushed aside
Just as it's swept away
It's just the evidence
It's of no consequence
It's only flesh and bone
Why don't you leave it alone?
If dust could only speak
Caught in a falling beam
If dust could only cry
If dust could only scream
For it's the single witness that might testify
Could I spit out the truth?
Or would you rather just swallow a lie?
But dust is always caught behind a coat of paint
Beneath the marble fingernails of kings and saints
And in the theater curtain where they hang a drape
Or in the ticket pocket where your hands escape
Before they start to wander
Or they start to shrink
You rub your eye a little and appear to blink
And then she caught you staring
She knows just what you're thinking
What got into you was not a ghost as such
It was just dust
Here comes the juggernaut
Here come the poisoners
They choke the life and land
And rob the joy from us
Why do they taste of sugar
Oh, when they're made of money
Here comes the lamb of God
And the butcher's boy, Sonny
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