There's a black cloud rising, broad and wide. Like a dark horizon before my eyes. Better pray for peace and guard my kin. 'Cause the thunderhead is rolling in.
Please, just deliver me peace and a chance to stay. It ain't even closure I need, it's a recovery. Well, I'd sink in the water or cry at the altar. I'd bleed for a minute to say?.
He looks in the mirror and flexes and shaves. And his mind says he's cut and he's tall and he's brave. He wears cologne to the spa and a tie to the store.
In my town, there's a piece of hell. A little dig called The Chess Hotel. You can move on in and be a small town slave. Or you can get out now if you're feeling brave.