The Bunkhouse

(álbum: The Bunkhouse Vol. I: Anchor Black Tattoo - 2012)

Put the chair against the handle
In the window light a candle
When you're smoking up
The chimney slowly

The wind it blew the slates off
Your prayers float through the fog's glow
Grip the iron bed post quickly

We watched them carry the coffin
From the house down to the river
They recited
"Come away from the well"

At the gathering the whole room it fell silent
It heckled and grew violent
I stood at your back
Deep breath, haystack

You're a business man
Wrapped in a caftan
It's all you'll ever be
Go count your money
I'm a painter, you're a framer

Wear a warm coat
It gets cold out there
Out at the bunkhouse

Prayers float through the fog's glow
Prayers float through the fog's glow