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Christian Death – Of The Wound lyrics
The cross pulled from his chest
Raises a welt, leaden in every limb
Sleep can watch for seizures
The legless man had directed him to a window
Window like blind eyes probed the mud
The minutes that were left
Ran across his throat stuffed with cotton
And his mouth could hear the distant splashes
A fever and his hand is worse
In the silent film days
He must remain an enigma
They climbed three flights of stairs to the night
Like a hundred pieces of glass
There were numerous outstretched hands throwing shadows,
A pair of shadows
Holding the three cornered hat of a cardinal
We move on to snake venoms
Christ would spit on you
And that's who you remind me of
Beneath a musty green
The wound appears to be dying
Raises a welt, leaden in every limb
Sleep can watch for seizures
The legless man had directed him to a window
Window like blind eyes probed the mud
The minutes that were left
Ran across his throat stuffed with cotton
And his mouth could hear the distant splashes
A fever and his hand is worse
In the silent film days
He must remain an enigma
They climbed three flights of stairs to the night
Like a hundred pieces of glass
There were numerous outstretched hands throwing shadows,
A pair of shadows
Holding the three cornered hat of a cardinal
We move on to snake venoms
Christ would spit on you
And that's who you remind me of
Beneath a musty green
The wound appears to be dying
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/c/christian_death/of_the_wound.html
