الكلمات الأصلية
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Diamond shot eyes
Clicking in time
See through
The narrow spaces
And lines
Perilous times
Salted and brined
Sealed up in barrels
Packed up in pine
And did he
Tell you the story
Of the glorious glory
That can never be
Touched or felt
But we believe
To be true
Sparrows entwine
Shrouded in vines
Have replaced
The marrow
And straighted
The spine
A horse shot
With iron
Stamps just behind
A forehead
That's furrowed
A face
Wrecked by time
And did he
Tell you the story
Of the glorious glory
That can never be
Touched or felt
But we believe
To be true
