Flat hand, open palm

Your mouth was screaming, your eyes were calm

Flat land, 23rd Psalm

Little Bo Peep, your sheep done gone

Flat hand to leave no trace

Mark where the nail went, left a scratch across your face

Flat land, glittering strand

Lover?s angels banished from the sand

No eyes shine brighter

To the flailing, failing fighter

Who once held above her head

A glowing trembling lighter

No heart pounds harder to the sinking, drinking martyr

Who trembled on the bank

As her last dream boat sank

Beneath the deep and sleepless water

Holy Mary, hold the phone

I want a little baby that?s all my own

Hold the line, hold me tight

I got a hole in my arm and I can?t get it right

Holy flesh, howlin? bones

Run off and left me, all alone

Hopped up boy, hothouse frail

I got a hole in my arm and I know, I?m bound to fail

Blood of my blood is what you are

No wise man?s gift sent from afar

Blood of my blood flows through your veins

And bound our hearts in crimson chains