I'm sleeping on a bed of rust
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And I am breathing hard...
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And I am breathing hard
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Some times I feel I'm made of glass
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And still I breathing hard...
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And still I breathing hard
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I'm weakened by this heavy load
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And I want nothin' more...
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And I want nothin' more
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I'm empty cause I dug the hole
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And still I'm nothin' more...
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And still I'm nothin' more
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And the mud... in my mouth
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Starts to pour... while I'm speaking
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And I scrape... the mistakes
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From the thoughts... that's misleading
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I swear that all feel is doubt
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My life is made of sand...
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My life is made of sand
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Like Jesus kept temptations in
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It's falling through my hands...
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It's falling through my hands
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Underground... in the maze
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Where I carve... the excuses
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With the guilt... that I pull
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Out of skin... that I'm shedding
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And the mud... in my mouth
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Is still here... and still pouring
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And I choke... on the cross
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As I'm hangs... as I'm hangs
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-----------------
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Bed Of Rust
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| Two |
