Field Corpse - White Mana Lyrics

White Mana daughter
Console me on the phone
Broad daylight park bench
Driving home alone
Marijuana cigarettes
Braced against the cold
Ithaca, New York
Throw a guy a bone

There's a whole in my chest
A stone in my gut
He's hot on her heels
An apetite to glut
Where once a man stood
A now deflated husk
Harbor not your pox here
Haven't you done enough

I can't stand to look at you
Gone down in flames
I can't stand to look at you
Went up in smoke