| Body after body
|
| They never stop turning
|
| My home is built upon the bones
|
| Of the souls who’ve crossed over
|
| I put them on display for the world to weep
|
| Cover their bruises
|
| Scars and ruses
|
| Paint their faces
|
| To show the pain has stopped
|
| Feed them to the Earth
|
| In its belly they will rot
|
| How much land does one man need?
|
| Dressed to impress for unknown places
|
| No more fighting the hurt you’re facing
|
| My home is built upon the bones
|
| Of the souls who’ve crossed over
|
| Body after body
|
| They never stop turning
|
| Body after body
|
| Find my home
|
| See a little bit of myself
|
| In each passing one
|
| Poets, sinners, saints, abusers
|
| Lovers, losers, kings, martyrs
|
| How much land does one man need?
|
| Six feet from his head to his heels
|
| Six feet
|
| Dressed to impress for unknown places
|
| No more fighting the hurt you’re facing
|
| I put them on display for the world to weep
|
| Cover their bruises
|
| Scars and ruses
|
| Paint their faces
|
| To show the pain has stopped
|
| Feed them to the Earth
|
| In its belly they will rot
|
| How much land does one man need?
|
| Six feet from his head to his heels |