We said we didn't trust a holy man who'd been holy all his life And but for a single line A distance bound by points We watched as a body surrounded A flickerin' light And it shivered and it quavered as the wounded walk became the motion of Arrivin' and returnin' Sing a song of songs When we press upon the past That presses upon us
PART II
Of the world, not of the world A song of songs I sing to St. Sisyphus Of myself, not myself My song mistakes its stone for a crucifix The of itself, not of itself Look in, look in, your dull light is flickerin The of itself, lost in the world A song of songs I sing to St. Sisyphus The of itself, lost in the world The of itself, lost in the world Flickerin' out
All in the set-up, how how to roll in strides One foot at a time, dusted with a weary white (The sound of shivering sigh) Shins, shoulders and a quiverin' spine (One wound at a time) Best just to control it, whoa oh oh oh (Don't rest on the down roll) Heave up, huff and hold it, whoa oh oh oh (Don't rest on the down roll) Your role actually felt (Blown out at the knees) Amazing memories prone to compete (Daydreams grown as weeds) To know 'em is to ruin their spark (To know 'em is to ruin their spark) Their question mark (A mystery met, a mouthful said) Their suiting to spar (A mass of shooting stars) To know 'em is to do with your time (To set the shiver in your spine) So terribly tight (Just what you want and when) Momentum met and left to rest Let it rest, Let it Rest
PART III
You said that you could trust The hopeful man's stance About as far as you can throw him Through the air Your roll got knocked off its rail And tumbled t'wards the edge And if you don't breathe in (The ground won't let out) You'll be dead where you stand (What you let in, let out) Arrivin' and returning
Pound for pound Recoverin' your ground Lettin' back out All you take Pounce for pounce Rotation comes back around To claim and count the ground you've made
So lay a claim Lay a claim Lay a claim
What you let in, let out again
The of itself lost in the world Found in the story of a man Who turned his toiling into song Who said I know it by the beating My heart is recieving That the body leaving Runs the blood of songs
I know it by the ground I gain beneath The pressure in my soul is pushing through my feet The weight of my song
Pound for pound, recovering your ground Let out all you take Pounce for pounce, rotation comes back around To claim and count the ground you've made
I start the work alone then I work along When in the song I sing I hear a hundred more I hear a hundred strong That man was said to start all over again Through the work of songs