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Reverend Glasseye
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Belle's Palsy
My arms shake, I can't feel my legs
My skin flakes most every day
Leaves a mess of a man
In a sea full of sin
The storm is coming in
I open my mouth and find little voice
I was meant to love you, I don't have much choice
But I will sing this song and I'll sing it with joy
The storm is coming in
So I hold my breast
Imagining
The tenor and the bass singing
We'll beat our breast and sing our song
And whip ourselves to the candlelight
And this song is to my enemy
This song is for my priest
And this song is for my eagerness
In my ill prepared feast
And like this rain
I move it along
Remembered only through my pathetic song
But the wind it howls and the mobs that roar
The storm is coming in
I collect your name in a masons jar
Places on my shelf and handled with care
But sometimes the thunder shakes them close to the edge
And the storm is coming in
So it's broken glass on a hardwood floor
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Once was here, now no more
It seems
So I take the glass and stab the throat
So I can hit the holy note from my hymns
And this song is for the prophet
This song is for the poor
And this song is for the holy men
Who abuse our sacred words
And I'll get down on my knees
Hallelujah
I cry out your name
So I hold my arms
Imagining the tenor and the bass singing
And we beat our breast and sing our songs
And whip ourselves tot he candlelight
And this song is to my enemy
And this song is for my priest
And this song is for my eagerness
An ill prepared feast
And I'll get down on my knees
Hallelujah
I cry out your name
And I thank you
And I love you
But I must make you understand
I have become less than a man
And the storm is coming in
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