|
Morning spinning vengeance |
|
Clings just like a dog hair |
|
Last but least minola |
|
Steely sleepers hell bound |
|
Surplus lovers sing out |
|
Photographs that we cling to |
|
Still call our names |
|
Pin your chest with hard times |
|
Time torched in bloodlines |
|
Every drink that I'm sinking |
|
Carries the taste |
|
We sleep on stones |
|
There's a killer in our homes |
|
That drives the night in |
|
We sleep on stones |
|
Bitter winter's got our bones |
|
And lord knows |
|
I've been searching |
|
Sleeping through a dust storm |
|
Beaten like a wing torn |
|
Buttons pop and the heavens roar |
|
Sermons from a pig pen |
|
Life rushes from a crack den |
|
Injured birds in a closing phase |
|
I see tokens of a mans greed |
|
Sown upon a boy seed |
|
Take 'em down with a clean shot |
|
Take 'em down |
|
We sleep on stones |
|
There's a killer in our homes |
|
That drives the night in |
|
We sleep on stones |
|
Bitter winter's got our bones |
|
And lord knows |
|
I've been searching |
|
Hundred thousand heartbeats |
|
Twisting in the bedsheets |
|
Made my peace with Jesus long ago |
|
If he sees what I see |
|
Then he will forgive me |
|
Take 'em down with a clean shot |
|
Take 'em down |
|
We sleep on stones |
|
There's a killer in our homes |
|
That drives the night in |
|
We sleep on stones |
|
Bitter winter's got our bones |
|
And lord knows |
|
I've been searching |
|
We sleep on stones |
|
There's a killer in our homes |
|
That drives the night in |
|
We sleep on stones |
|
Bitter winter's got our bones |
|
And lord knows |
|
I've been searching |
