كلمات Portraits Of The Poor

Finger painting pictures Of this sad existence Fixed with stitches none the richer You could never call me poor Bled out the old me Family does not know me now Someone better show me how to live Now the times nigh in the night sky How can you walk away? This is your lifetime Don't let them break you Let this torture be exposed Can you paint me a picture A portrait of your soul All the discarded and the broken All the martyred and the orphaned With the soldiers and the soverigned All the sisters of the fallen There's a bad moon in the rear view And a blood son on the horizon Finger painting pictures Of this sad existence Fixed with stitches none the richer You could never call me poor Bled out the old me Family does not know me now Someone better show me how to live