Job for a Cowboy

The Stone Cross

I sleep on a cross for my madness
I exist within a foundation of stone
Encircled and smothered within bars of rust

It all helps me rest within a confine of serenity
Sealed windows and doorways feel
Like decrepit paintings on the walls

Pieces of immovable art
Grow an everlasting flavor of neglect and dust
An existence within a casket to bear the living

My humble and delusional confine
My humble and delusional confine

Pieces of immovable art
Grow an everlasting flavor of neglect and dust
An existence within a casket to bear the living

I sleep on a cross for my madness
I exist within a foundation of stone

It all helps me rest within a confine of serenity
Sealed windows and doorways feel
Like decrepit paintings on the walls

Pieces of immovable art
Grow an everlasting flavor of neglect and dust

I sleep on a cross for my madness
I exist within a foundation of stone
Encircled and smothered within bars of rust
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