Ghost Lyrics - Blast Tyrant - Clutch

The leather soles go shufflin' in 

Stinking of smoke and ten cent gin 

Now who will toast our noble host 

Who has this mornin' given up the ghost? 

The wooden coffer hand to hand 

Kind words are offered, silent prayers 

But she is satisfied the most 

While stabbing madly at the roast 

The rib of Adam, the eyes of Eve 

The sons of Cain receive no reprieve 

The rib of Adam, the eyes of Eve 

The sons of Cain receive no reprieve 

The creditor rides with his men 

The death of debtors, he won't forgive 

They repossess his silver eyes 

Now in the potter's field, he lies 

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The rib of Adam, the eyes of Eve 

The sons of Cain receive no reprieve 

The rib of Adam, the eyes of Eve 

The sons of Cain receive no reprieve 

Waitin' for a dead man's shoes 

Have you heard the latest news? 

Lazarus is back from the dead 

Lookin' as one would expect 

Drippin' with the waters of Sheol 

Babblin' about body and soul 

And then he found his wife in their bed 

Buck, naked and already wed 

The tax collector beneath his sheets 

The door swings open, floorboards creak 

Now who will toast our noble host 

Who has this mornin' given up the ghost? 

Photos 

The rib of Adam, the eyes of Eve 

The sons of Cain receive no reprieve 

The rib of Adam, the eyes of Eve 

The sons of Cain receive no reprieve 

The rib of Adam, the eyes of Eve 

The sons of Cain will receive no reprieve 

The rib of Adam, the eyes of Eve 

The sons of Cain will receive, will receive