Psalms Alive - Baroness

I am the nail that you can’t strike

I am the spear that will run you through

And when the shots were falling we were sound asleep

And you filled your palms with dirty bombs

Instead of hand grenades

I am teeth which cannot bite

I’ll tear your garden up by the roots

And when the shots were falling we were sound asleep

And you filled your palms with dirty bombs

Instead of hand grenades

Hear the seven bell tolls

Ringing loud for you

Coroners and vultures

Cry out «Gloria!»

All across the valley

Onwards towards the sun

The two-bit prophet sways and

Pulls a price from everyone

Feel the heavy hoof-beats

Pound across the land

The sins of our forefathers

Lay within our clutching hands

Watch the plane pass over

Hear its call-to-arms

The golden drunk of morning

Made me straight my bended knee