Am [Verse]G I must drag my body through the muck and mireAm Gather branches for its funeral pyreG Twigs I would rather twist into nestsAm Or whittle wooden wings and fly [Chorus]G But they said, hey oh dig another wellAm The water reeks of sulfur and it's red as hellG Oh, oh rip the curbing all awayAm Throw the wood on the funeral pyre [Bridge]Am I'd call on my lord but he can't help me nowF I'd fall on my sword if I only knew how to believe there's nothing above Only absence of breath, of hatred and loveAm But it was born into me and if I can't burn it out I'll forge all my swords into blades of a plowF Am And toil all my days in those fields of fireG Am And I will welcome those flames in a funeral pyre [Instrumental]Am F Am G Am [Verse]Am G I must drag my body through the muck and mireAm Gather branches for its funeral pyreG Twigs I would rather twist into nestsAm Or whittle wooden wings and fly [Chorus]G But they said, hey oh dig another wellAm The water reeks of sulfur and it's red as hellG Oh, oh rip the curbing all awayAm Throw the wood on the funeral pyre [Outro]Am Am F GAm Am F GAm F We file down our fangs on the bones of our foesG Am And curse their names with blood swollen tonguesF We file down our hearts on the kindness of friendsG Am Pick them up and cut them down again
Muck And Mire
Brown Bird
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Continua depois do anúncio
Tom: