Sermon On The Mount

There’s a storm outside that’s a holding its breath
Waiting to blow but toying with death
By the look in your eyes
You’ve been toying too
Well inside the smoke and still the room
A that jokes and will kill us soon
As you start to resign, the sermon on the mount
Say blessed are those that mourn
They will be comforted soon
But you say it with such scorn
You don’t believe that it’s true
But He is a light, even in death
Who said that living’s about drawing breath?
And sometimes your breath’s too heavy too hold
And it disappears like clouds in the cold
Like clouds in the cold
I woke up bleeding and didn’t know why
The girl in my bed had left in the night
Well I was still swimming in her smell
All in love
I woke up listening to the Calvary {?]
Ungrateful pilgrims gathering
Even without the missing fingers and all extra thumbs
I still played a tune on the violin
Say blessed are those that mourn
They will be comforted soon
But you say it with such scorn
You don’t believe that it’s true
And He is a light, even in death
Who said that living’s about drawing breath?
And sometimes your breath’s too heavy too hold
And it disappears like clouds in the cold
And sometimes those words forged in the pyre
Of the funeral pyre
Of the funeral pyre
Of the funeral pyre
Of the funeral pyre
Of the funeral pyre