Wasted inheritor feel this son I bring across the sands of time my strangely born
was the third day, fourth of March you hear it every time my first born open your mouth.
The wind was flagging headline alleys breathe in active voice into your deeper mind
Tied to these songs that I bring roll down cold hall ways my lonely star
No matter what I do I know Jesus cares for you the way he used to care.
Hear this son I bring will not change who I am we leave mom just not now we leave mom just for now so sleep her for awhile
Trust yourself to carry songs across the oceans of the years
If your prayer’s for demons they will appear speak it with your angels words will soothe your ear
