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In the cold stone walls |
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House where the fleeting dead fall |
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A mother |
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Is crying |
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Outside |
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In the darkest of hours |
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Left with her perilous thoughts |
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They circle |
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To squeeze dry |
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Her soul |
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She said |
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Lord, imma' lose my baby |
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Lord, imma' lose my way |
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But if |
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Living means I'm dead here |
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Come hurry |
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And resurrect me |
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Aaaaahhhh..... |
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When the sun goes down |
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Into another night's arms |
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We're babies |
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In a scavenger's glimpse |
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Then a neon cross shines |
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And shows us to tread on the line |
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Of guilt trips |
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While love grips |
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The blind |
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I said, |
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Lord, imma' lose my head here |
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Lord, imma' lose my way |
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But if pushing means I'm stuck here |
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Come hurry and resurrect me |
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Imma' drop my head |
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Before I'm ready to stop |
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Imma' drop my head |
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Before I'm ready to stop |
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Imma' dig that grave |
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And fall in line for the drop |
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Before I'm ready to stop |
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If I'm ready or not |
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|
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Imma' drop my head |
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Before I'm ready to stop |
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Imma' drop my head |
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Before I'm ready to stop |
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Imma' ride my time |
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Before they throw out the clock |
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Charge me blood by the hour |
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And make me pay for the talk |
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|
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I said |
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Lord imma' lose my head here |
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Lord imma' lose my way |
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Imma' dig that grave |
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Imma' dig that grave |
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Baby blow this scene |
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Hang our hopes up to lean |
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And die until the resurrection of the things we believe |
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Imma' dig that grave |
