Pillars Of Salt

Murder By Death

Our fingers are missing they litter the ground grass will never grow near
this town again the frames on the walls are crooked and empty these
shoulders bend low towards the dirt I made a deal to get us out of
this place but I am falling apart with each step I take and as the
pieces fall I count them all.

Tracker

All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes only.