Crickets rhythmically sing Their mournful melodies A monotone by request...
I'm like Thomas doubting fingers running the scars Your wrists...
My heart is as dark as the soil sodden with...
drifting away from you spinning down to the pinpoint drop...
I look out to the fields where blood is shed...
i only want what's mine that's what i came to...
questions flew and words were hurled into the air and...
Take my sorrow and my sin I will run into...
I only want what's mine That's what i came to...
these things which i so often wonder this need to...