Vagabond Soul

Parable

a hunter's mouth can never kiss a fawn
the way she is supposed to be kissed
fire and brimstone will not salvage you from
how you once slashed your wrists
divide up the losses incurred and when
it hits hope we don't get hurt
goddamn our futile hearts
for ever making us fall apart
ooh ooh

cuz when you mixed it with my kind
it's wicked jaws and spoiled teeth lined
up to view you being stoned and crucified
for a lack of wisdom devotion and pride

I am not your lord no more
and I really don't care what
we're fighting for
if you got something to say say it
if you got something to pray pray it

so here we are we're all hung up
on nine inch nails heavy and abrupt
love's vexed souls and hands that
profit free and we do it
all knowingly