So cold as the church bell tolls
Sit and listen as the story unfolds
You can't defame me
You want another reason why
You can't detain me
I cannot help but defy
You'd watch me burn alive
I'm on my knees, but faith has died
Seeds and stones, pious mountains of sand
Are always falling back into their hands
Their paper bones shearing blackened wings
And always investing in the never ending
Talk is three times as cheap
With thirty silver teeth
Gnashing daggers follow
Crows at my feet
Stealing embers to burn
Your f*cking soap box down
My heart, my blood, my life, my soul
Mine to be found,
Now
Seeds and stones, pious mountains of sand