|
Up in the light |
|
Holding the knife |
|
So quickly |
|
Out of the morn fighting for sun |
|
So quickly |
|
Dead in the night |
|
In the dead of night |
|
Biding you time away |
|
In the light of the glow |
|
All alone, |
|
All alone |
|
It's a box so cold |
|
The box don't know |
|
You've balked at signs |
|
And chalked the lines |
|
And sold for fineness |
|
Sold you kindness for hounds |
|
Dig the holes |
|
In your hands |
|
Wedded to lies |
|
Of the favorite |
|
Child In a manner to shun |
|
Your cot away |
|
Now the bed of the swine |
|
Has the room for all mine |
|
In the city |
|
That drowns the life away |
|
Me in the middle |
|
Harbored from the dogs on a random hideaway |
|
In the madness of rome |
|
With the body to show |
|
It's the box |
|
So cold The box still knows |
|
You've been up at times |
|
You've been hiding times |
|
I've been short at times |
|
I've been shown your times |
|
When you come and your body's |
|
Away Your holding |
|
Your times |
|
On the tame |
|
And You Can't |
|
Understand |
|
What we say |
|
Wedded to lies |
|
Of the favorite |
|
Child In a manner to shun your cot away |
|
Now the bed of the swine |
|
Has the room for all mine |
|
In the city that drowns the life away |
|
In the shadow of sores |
|
We will march with the bores |
|
To the drainage that marks the tidalwave |
