The Wanderer şarkı sözleri

The curtains have been closed, I am cold still When hunters blow their smoke into the hills And the pretty girls pick pine cones, In the white fields And I am wide eyed waiting for you So Mother mind the your words These are young ears built to feast on what it is they hear Mother don’t be cruel If you are looking, a good man will whip himself in front of you Win or lose, He will be there for you And he will call you by your first name Win or lose, I cannot comfort you Anymore than my touch can tell The lungs that I could long for Are heaving hearts full of Empty books on wood shelves starving And the mouths that speak the good word I am not good for because I tasted the fruit when it was ripe So I will wash my hands clean of these things And I will lick my lips and you will look but you can’t touch And you will go on stalwart fighting for your causes And I will go on stalwart counting all my loses I am just as good as the ones who Stand in the street and beg for mercy Unlock your cellar door and let loose the demons You keep within the belly of your beast Win or lose, He will be there for you And he will call you by your first name Win or lose, I cannot comfort you Anymore than my touch can tell