So make your heart a balled fist of oak
And trace the knotted lines up to your throat
The storms we’ve weathered have left us bare
Broken limbs cling to the scaffold tree
So Burn the bedsheets, tear up the floors
A famine sleeps like naked bones beneath the boards
A treaty and an oath to these lesser wars
Oh low, we’re low as lions
Set to tear each other apart
Oh low, we’re low as lions
Set to tear each other apart
A sermon in the desert, no perfect sage
A ragged heart that will never be stayed
Keep your ear to the cold ground, the break in a pine bow
This dying house burning to the ground
This dying house burning to the ground
Chorus
We’ve grown older in this skin
As the days turn over
We’ve grown older in this skin
As the days turn over
‘Til the roof comes caving in
‘Til the roof comes caving in
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