Job For A Cowboy The Stone Cross
I sleep on a cross for my madness
I exist within a foundation of stone
Encircled and smothered within bars of rust
It all helps me rest within a confine of serenity
Sealed windows and doorways feel
Like decrepit paintings on the walls
Pieces of immovable art
Grow an everlasting flavor of neglect and dust
An existence within a casket to bear the living
My humble and delusional confine
My humble and delusional confine
Pieces of immovable art
Grow an everlasting flavor of neglect and dust
An existence within a casket to bear the living
I sleep on a cross for my madness
I exist within a foundation of stone
It all helps me rest within a confine of serenity
Sealed windows and doorways feel
Like decrepit paintings on the walls
Pieces of immovable art
Grow an everlasting flavor of neglect and dust
I sleep on a cross for my madness
I exist within a foundation of stone
Encircled and smothered within bars of rust