| Here it lies a pile of sand
|
| Watch it run out of my hands
|
| Oh across the desert land
|
| This gun it fell out of my hands
|
| So you take the mortal bone
|
| Place it down beneath the throne
|
| Thinking of the king and I
|
| This is not where power lies
|
| All along the road is dim
|
| I found someone to take you in
|
| And though your heart is made of pure sin
|
| Oh the art of dying, oh the eagle flies round
|
| With your heart in its talon
|
| You left your misery on the ground
|
| Here it lies a pile of sand
|
| Watch it run out of my hands
|
| Oh across the desert land
|
| This gun it fell out of my hands
|
| So you take the mortal bone
|
| Place it down beneath the throne
|
| Thinking of the king and I
|
| This is not where power lies |