Dead Confederate - Semi-Thought

I can't hear you when you talk
You're a muted semi-thought
Going down, down, down, down
Can't express what can't be bought
Can't express in written thought
Going down, down, down, down
Far along we've come alone
Throwing sticks will bring you stones
Going down, going
So afraid of all your faults
Just a critic without heart
Going down, down, down, down