Peasant Hands - Loose Nails

I stood at the door
I wrung the bastard's neck
Lonely stiff rich man
Would had a lung stabbed
Not for that loose nail
'A cut me
There is not a thing worse
Than a shriek of horror
A plague in earshot
Would had a lung shred
Not for the loose nail
'A cut me
You would not 'a felt this way
Had you left the poor souls alone
There is no peace
Like a tempest through the night
Dear father
May the storm
Ravage inside
Of your cold
Monastery
I danced on the floor
I flung as arms bled round the house
Sliced cuff ulnar vein
Spilled on the old oak floor
Dear father
May the storm
Ravage inside
Of your cold
Monastery
You would not 'a felt this way
Felt this way
Had you left the poor souls alone
Souls alone
There is no peace
No peace
In this night's fury
If rain could purify this foul body
Let it flood
On this night
For your one last prayer
May it be so that god please
Lights the way
The nails let go
With the tides
The house collapsed on us

Written by:
Joseph Flores

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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