Cutting Flesh and Bone - Landmine Marathon

Traveling worlds and passing nights

From whence you came

Surgeons that cut flesh and bone

But cause no pain

Where gouging eyes

And severing hands

Make canvases for three

For when the morning comes

These wounds do heal

Three bottles on a servant’s plate

Three bottles on a servant’s plate

Filled with hands, eyes and heart

But servant and soldier

Have soiled hearts

And ill luck comes creeping in

Miserable girl what shall you do

Three bottles gone

A sinning hand

A swine heart

And two sly eyes

When morning comes the wounds do heal

One man runs to where the dirt is deepest

Face down and exposed

The other’s hands that twitch like a thief

And eyes blinded by the night

Setting fire wrongs the right

Now beg for your bodies back