A Band Of Buriers piosenki

Come crumbling down... Embers in a cage made from bone Slowly growing cold Folding gold on gold I can and I will despair at the filth To be found even in love 

glass of bourbon a poorly rolled smoke then it’s time to go home spend my whole night chasing your eyes two flakes of burning coal outside words climb towards the moonshine as if mining for gold in the cool dark very big dark ‘neath which I walk home stalagti...