Better think of my answers now
Because I know the questions will be asked
Like if I brought the joy I found
In the confessions of a mask

The tip of my tongue's Already
touching the top of my mouth
It's meaning manifest in mercy

Burning down, Burning down
Burning down, Burning down
Burning down, Burning down
Burning down the house

It's true that tactless team totem-poles
Turn tolerance to tired taboos
It's true that a bullet never knocks on the door
It's about to come crashing through

It's true that tactless team totem-poles
Turn tolerance to tired taboos
It's true that a bullet never knocks on the door
It's about to come crashing through

I'm Walking one last mile
In big steps as your altar wine

I'm Doing it in tattered shoes
that aren't even mine
Because my own are in a box
Locked up with possessions I can't have

Like the gunman with his future
And the prison priest's golden calf

Walking one last mile
Walking one last mile

Blindfolds aside
I'd probably still close my eyes
And try to feel for a trembling fetal life Inside

That shotgun barrel
That's about to make me bleed
Like an ulcer in the stomach of the beast

Like a little girl on a bed
That was years ago deceased
Was Resurrected last night
With a letter she can't trace

Like a little girl on a bed
That was years ago deceased
Was Resurrected last night
With a letter she can't trace

Resurrected to be killed
Then maybe born again
I'll always be Kezia
So long as any hope remains

Resurrected to be killed
Then maybe born again
I'll always be Kezia
So long as any hope...

Resurrected to be killed
And then maybe born again
I'll always be Kezia
So long as any hope remains.....

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