Shelter From The Sand Lyrics
| Song | Shelter From The Sand |
| Artist | Akercocke |
| Album | Words That Go Unspoken |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Nothing could save the Baptist | |
| Not cross, not altar, nor crucifix | |
| Old time lays waste the spirit | |
| Without condoning or condemning | |
| A complex sense of purpose | |
| For those with eyes to see | |
| “This town is afraid of me | |
| With good reason, | |
| It has see my true face” | |
| [Solo Mendonca] | |
| Walking freely among the enemy | |
| The Baptists lack of inner capacity | |
| Philosophical sagacity | |
| It is not seen as a defect | |
| But as a sign of strength | |
| A sign of strength | |
| "I shall lay my hands upon you | |
| Feel my hands touch you" | |
| As if the eyes of the blind come open | |
| Here is the servant | |
| In whom my soul delights | |
| Ancient sadness of desert sands | |
| An unending hymn of praise | |
| To the Sanhedrin of Sheol | |
| Everything is real | |
| Everything dies | |
| "I shall my hands upon you | |
| Feel my hands touch, touching you..." | |
| Here's the one in who my soul delights | |
| Close enough to touch yet out of reach | |
| Everything is real | |
| Everything dies | |
| ...close enough to touch you... | |
| [Solo Wilcock] |
| Nothing could save the Baptist | |
| Not cross, not altar, nor crucifix | |
| Old time lays waste the spirit | |
| Without condoning or condemning | |
| A complex sense of purpose | |
| For those with eyes to see | |
| " This town is afraid of me | |
| With good reason, | |
| It has see my true face" | |
| Solo Mendonca | |
| Walking freely among the enemy | |
| The Baptists lack of inner capacity | |
| Philosophical sagacity | |
| It is not seen as a defect | |
| But as a sign of strength | |
| A sign of strength | |
| " I shall lay my hands upon you | |
| Feel my hands touch you" | |
| As if the eyes of the blind come open | |
| Here is the servant | |
| In whom my soul delights | |
| Ancient sadness of desert sands | |
| An unending hymn of praise | |
| To the Sanhedrin of Sheol | |
| Everything is real | |
| Everything dies | |
| " I shall my hands upon you | |
| Feel my hands touch, touching you..." | |
| Here' s the one in who my soul delights | |
| Close enough to touch yet out of reach | |
| Everything is real | |
| Everything dies | |
| ... close enough to touch you... | |
| Solo Wilcock |
| Nothing could save the Baptist | |
| Not cross, not altar, nor crucifix | |
| Old time lays waste the spirit | |
| Without condoning or condemning | |
| A complex sense of purpose | |
| For those with eyes to see | |
| " This town is afraid of me | |
| With good reason, | |
| It has see my true face" | |
| Solo Mendonca | |
| Walking freely among the enemy | |
| The Baptists lack of inner capacity | |
| Philosophical sagacity | |
| It is not seen as a defect | |
| But as a sign of strength | |
| A sign of strength | |
| " I shall lay my hands upon you | |
| Feel my hands touch you" | |
| As if the eyes of the blind come open | |
| Here is the servant | |
| In whom my soul delights | |
| Ancient sadness of desert sands | |
| An unending hymn of praise | |
| To the Sanhedrin of Sheol | |
| Everything is real | |
| Everything dies | |
| " I shall my hands upon you | |
| Feel my hands touch, touching you..." | |
| Here' s the one in who my soul delights | |
| Close enough to touch yet out of reach | |
| Everything is real | |
| Everything dies | |
| ... close enough to touch you... | |
| Solo Wilcock |
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