Yardsale lyrics

I wonder if this blade ran through someone's sideThe blood wiped away to hide How evil you grandfather was 'fore he diedBut war can make monsters out of us allI'm sure I'd become one if I was calledAnd then it would be my bladeHere at this yardsaleThe guitar I am holding is way out of tuneThe neck it is warped and the saddle is throughI wonder if sweet music ever was playedFrom the hands of a boy to a girl in the shadeFrom this rickety ghost of a songHere at this yardsaleA dollar for anything here on this quiltA price tag for hands from which all things are builtA blanket of voices speak pleasure in shameFlowers of plastic and fruit of the sameA basket of nothing at allHere at this yardsaleSo if I had the money I'd buy everythingAnd cover the whole lot with good gasolineAnd burn it for all that I care for the pastAnd rid mother earth of what never should lastAnd give her the present of ashMade of a yardsale