Chris Cornell
Pillow Of Your Bones

The embers of the saint inside of you
Are growing as I'm bathing in your glow
I'm swallowing the poison of your flower
And hanging on the rising of my low
Colorful and falling from your mouth
Like a painted fever in recoil
Like a lie without the pain

On a pillow of your bones
I will lay across the stones
Of your shore until the tide comes crawling back
Throw my pillow on the fire
Make my bed under the eye
Of your moon until the tide comes crawling back

A waning hand on silver granite ways
Will mend my broken limbs and bend my haze
I'm sleeping in the silence of your voice
I'm cradling the peril of my only choice
Colorful and falling from your mouth
Like a painted fever in recoil
Like a lie without the pain

On a pillow of your bones
I will lay across the stone
Of your shore until the tide comes crawling...
Throw my pillow on the fire
Make my bed under the eye
Of your moon until the tide comes crawling back

Even though the truth can burn inside or fall behind
I will wander through your open mind
And you will find no lie can hide
Until the tide comes crawling


Mirror lyrics:

Until the tide comes crawling
And you will find no lie can hide
I will wander through your open mind
Even though the truth can burn inside or fall behind

Of your moon until the tide comes crawling back
Make my bed under the eye
Throw my pillow on the fire
Of your shore until the tide comes crawling...
I will lay across the stone
On a pillow of your bones

Like a lie without the pain
Like a painted fever in recoil
Colorful and falling from your mouth
I'm cradling the peril of my only choice
I'm sleeping in the silence of your voice
Will mend my broken limbs and bend my haze
A waning hand on silver granite ways

Of your moon until the tide comes crawling back
Make my bed under the eye
Throw my pillow on the fire
Of your shore until the tide comes crawling back
I will lay across the stones
On a pillow of your bones

Like a lie without the pain
Like a painted fever in recoil
Colorful and falling from your mouth
And hanging on the rising of my low
I'm swallowing the poison of your flower
Are growing as I'm bathing in your glow
The embers of the saint inside of you


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