We all lie in a pile as the dead driver drivesWe all lie in a pile singing songs in straight linesWe all lie in a pile as the dead driver drivesWe all lie in a pile singing songs all the whileI could pass awayPass away and not much would be leftAshes, ashes on the groundI guess I never left the groundMurder, murder on the wallsLate night curtain calls are heard by skeletons in closetsMan they'll reach out and grab your hands'Cause you've got grace on a bad day'Cause you've got grace on a bad day'Cause you've got grace throwEverybody's face under the falling eyesWe hold onto this moment all our livesWe all stand in a circle what's yours it was mineWe all lie in a pile as the dead driver drivesWe all lie in a pile singing songs all the whileI could pass awayIt still wouldn't feel real to meThis illusive walk of deathHolding hands with skeletonsLearners, teachers will provideTheir own sweet style of elegant liesBut I won't stop tryingNo I won't stop trying'Cause you've got grace on a bad day'Cause you've got grace on a bad day'Cause you've got grace throwEverybody's face under the falling eyes'Cause you've got grace on a bad day'Cause you've got grace throwEverybody's face under the falling eyes'Cause you've got grace on a bad day'Cause you've got grace on a bad day'Cause you've got grace throwEverybody's face under the falling eyesWe all lie in a pile as the dead driver drivesWe all lie in a pile singing songs in straight linesWe all lie in a pile as the dead driver drivesWe all lie in a pile singing songs all the whileWe all lie in a pile singing songs all the whileWe all lie in a pile singing songs all the while