WORDS

BEATING

Man come from the fire.

Made of iron. Made of stone.

Every heart is paper beating behind brittle bones.

 

Gripping tight the cold brass handle.

Rips the frame off with the door.

Screams out for his favorite poison. 

Crashes laughing to the floor.

 

Man come from the fire.

Made of iron. Made of stone.

Every heart is paper beating behind brittle bones.

 

He is teeth, and he is sinew.

He is muscle. He is meat.

Veins are swollen with his anger.

Pounding with the blood and heat.

 

He will lie until she opens.

What it takes, he’ll do.

Shadow on the bedroom shade coming toward her across 

the room.

 

Man come from the fire.

Made of iron. Made of stone.

Every heart is paper beating behind brittle bones.

 

 

Jim Walker - Guitars, Keyboards, Samples, Vocals