X Marks the Spot

You're a man of impeccable taste

And you know when the X marks the spot

We all need a map for the trail of your thought

Where to go, well, the X marks the spot

You seem to have a misgiving

Hell yeah, you make a living

Don't add bricks to what we're heaving

We would so much

Rather the enjoy beach, beer and a fire

You think something somewhere

Has a copyright for the world

And you've signed where the X marks the spot

You join a cult, fill the void that you've got

Deep within where the X marks the spot

There you stand n' talk and holler

How dark are all your colors

When you paint another sunrise

You leave out the sun

Birds like you fly straight to heaven, heaven

Or they slowly float away...

How well do you know those you're calling your own?

I mean... come on dude!

Your starving soul in your house of skin and bone

You're an island, the X marks the spot

There you stand n' talk and holler

How dark are all your colors

When you paint another sunrise

You leave out the sun

Birds like you fly straight to heaven, heaven

Or they slowly float away...

You're a circus, but where is the clown

There's no map, still the X marks the spot

There you stand n' talk and holler

How dark are all your colors

When you paint another sunrise

You leave out the sun

Birds like you fly straight to heaven, heaven

Or they slowly float down

Into the night with senior John Barleycorn

Heaven, heaven

Or they slowly float away...