Patrick Park
180426273.gif

You cast off the chains,
That tied and bound.
You're sick of the talk,
And won't carry their crowns.
You hollowed the space,
Where they darkened the ground.
With weary precision,
You lowered them down.

Oh, preacher, believer,
Saint with a fever,
You timid only son.
You'd better wipe that dust,
From the tip of your tongue,
And sing what ain't been sung.

Cause I've seen better days
And I've seen the end.
I saw grown men break,
I saw changed men mend.
And I've been in deep;
Way over my head,
I heard the virgin weep,
While the Saviour bled.

Oh, preacher, believer,
Saint with a fever,
You timid only son.
You'd better wipe that dust,
From the tip of your tongue,
And sing what ain't been sung.

Oh, preacher, believer,
Saint with a fever,
You timid only son.
You'd better wipe that dust,
From the tip of your tongue,
And sing what ain't been sung.

I cast off the chains,
That tied and bound.
I'm sick of the talk,
I won't carry their crowns.
I hollowed the space,
Where they darkened the ground.
With weary precision,
I lowered them down.


Mirror lyrics:

I lowered them down.
With weary precision,
Where they darkened the ground.
I hollowed the space,
I won't carry their crowns.
I'm sick of the talk,
That tied and bound.
I cast off the chains,

And sing what ain't been sung.
From the tip of your tongue,
You'd better wipe that dust,
You timid only son.
Saint with a fever,
Oh, preacher, believer,

And sing what ain't been sung.
From the tip of your tongue,
You'd better wipe that dust,
You timid only son.
Saint with a fever,
Oh, preacher, believer,

While the Saviour bled.
I heard the virgin weep,
Way over my head,
And I've been in deep;
I saw changed men mend.
I saw grown men break,
And I've seen the end.
Cause I've seen better days

And sing what ain't been sung.
From the tip of your tongue,
You'd better wipe that dust,
You timid only son.
Saint with a fever,
Oh, preacher, believer,

You lowered them down.
With weary precision,
Where they darkened the ground.
You hollowed the space,
And won't carry their crowns.
You're sick of the talk,
That tied and bound.
You cast off the chains,


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