There’s something odd in a town called Liberty Can’t quite tell you what it is Might be the things at the border of the pines Or it might just be the autumn wind There’s something strange about a town called Liberty Something in the way that they stare Even the schoolyard kids have the shadow of the reaper In their eye, and a melancholy air Mmm… There’s something off about a town called Liberty Headstones go back to seventeen-oh-three Well they must retire somewhere else in Carolina ‘Cause there ain’t as many graves as ought’ta be There’s something going on in a town called Liberty No one’s ever out past sundown Each night there’s a red light shining through the window of the lodge Casting shadows on the ground Aah… There’s something wrong about a town called Liberty A man’s kneeling at the little brick church He was praying to a god with a six letter name But he ain’t speaking English anymore There’s something weird in a town called liberty The waitress said with a wink She doesn’t like the church bells ringing and she can’t stand The cast-iron pans in the sink Hah… Well maybe it’s the land where they set up shop Maybe it’s the angle of the blood moon But there’s something odd in a town called liberty I’m finna be gone real soon

Sleepless dreams, it's coming back to me In the end alone Look into the abyss and tell what do you see Cast a martyr in ice then get back to me Let me work my methods, you can handle the rest, just keep your candles in check, they won’t see you Heaven hell and the void, and we’re stuck between I won’t take it out forever again Pay your debt to the black, the ash, the permanent grin But new days will arrive, and like the rising tides, and like the hands they bind they won’t need you They’ve started to reap one—they’ve started again Do you recede to a soul? I’m going back in time Burn that bridge like a crucifix, cannibal mind Strung upside down above an empty crown, before you hit the ground they’ll breathe you He’ll bury your dust and drag you into the light I’m waking up on the other side, I’m pouring red There goes another mistake, but never let us forget I’m breaking a new land; a world at wit’s end, they’ll try again and deceive you She told me everything but I’d much rather pretend Ghosts… I’ve been talking to ghosts, I’ve been talking to ghosts… Sleepless dreams it’s coming back to me In this endless cold Pieces, meaningless, pictures that I see Calling me back home I’ve been talking to ghosts, I’ve been talking to ghosts…

There are pillars of hands emerging all around town We’ve examined them run tests And attempted to destroy these pillars but were met with no understanding No explanation And no results Every so often one of the pillars will arch downward and seize a passerby Grabbing at him or her and tearing them into bloody pieces before our eyes We would attack the pillars of hands which suffered no damage and which would retaliate only by gently feeling at us As if trying to understand our bodies We have been living in this state for five months so far and have yet to make progress Rarely another pillar will emerge from the soil from the brambles From the sidewalks and concrete streets Pushing everything from trees to asphalt to steel from its wake Businesses have been shut down from the damages Roads have been closed after oncoming cars are pulverized on contact with emerging pillars There’s a young man in town A newcomer only moving in shortly before the pillars emerged As of late, the pillars have begun pointing at him At first it was only a few hands but soon the entire mass would contort its uncounted index fingers toward this young newcomer as he passed The ladies at the local diner The one shut not shut off by emerging pillars have been chatting with the hairdressers and antique shoppers across the street and they’re certain he’s the one who brought this plague upon our dynasties Brenton Elliot was the first to decide to move out because of the pillars His house hvac was ruined and his mechanic’s shop brought down by two separate incidents so he took his wife and kids and he took off for his relatives down in the piedmont They turned a corner on the mountain road and were thrown off the cliffside by a wall of anxious hands The farthest out from 21st street we’ve ever seen Now federal officials are arriving Forcing people out of their homes to set up research stations I’ve seen helicopters overhead and tanks rolling down streets Men in black suits and white masks are knocking on doors to ask questions about the pillars And residents are going missing after these visits Three army soldiers were killed yesterday After a pillar chose one of them as its arbitrary outlet of aggression The other two were killed by shrapnel from ricocheting bullets Last night I saw something watching me through my bedroom window It bore a gas mask and clawed talons Today we noticed the mist rolling in from the mountains And saw the valley below interrupted by pillars of hands Emerging through the earth’s follicles