Strung

歌詞

I keep wooden boxes like traps strung with wire In the light of old tires, piled on the fire Wearing their smoke like a flower in bloom Cut like the thread in a pipe fitter's room; I dig in the dirt and yank at the root Of the shadow's dark vein in a story gone mute, Till it sings with the blue of a hangman in time, And I give away what never was mine I've set a snare for the prey on my tongue The mean feral song still yet to be sung; The one with your name called out in the street That with or without me will always will repeat Like a coin in the mirrored jukebox machine Can set a world spinning like cheap gasoline; Sending up sparks in the air, how they shine, And I give away what never was mine I give away what never was mine The god of all truth, of darkness and sleep, Plays like the arc of a lamp and for keeps Dancing with fury, heat in both hands And welds me to you in the place where I stand: In love with your doubt, deaf to my own, Awake to the hole in the heart of my bone As I shake and sing, beating out time, And I give away what never was mine I give away what never was mine