When I was nine years old before the pain came, I would feed starved chickens in a pen.
The days were long; I worked my fingers to the bone; oh hungry nights but I didn’t do it all alone.
I had a Mother, Father, Sister and a friend; Jacob was his name.
We found him starving in wild wonderings, a stray cat look upon his face, skin pulled over bone and rows of lashings.
We would play wild horses in the sand; chase my sister with a stick so I could feel my father’s grip.

Then one day the dark came riding in, on a devils wing. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
They hung the women from a tree, cut my father in front of me; these are men that dealt in savagery.
They told me and Jacob to run free; so I took one final glance and ran in to the great expanse.
I could hear them sing and taunt in distant drunken chivalry.
I heard words laughing on the wind that we would meet again someday.


I’m not saying that it’s ok but there’s a reason they’re that way,
Starve the body for so long you begin to see your own decay and
I’m not saying that it’s ok but there’s a reason they’re that way,
Soak the body in so much death it begins to seep through every breath and I’m not saying that it’s ok but there’s a reason they’re that way,
Starve the body for so long you begin to witness your own decay.


When I was 24 a hardened shell, no well was deeper than the hole of my deceit.
I learned to deal out lies and misery, a trade in trickery but I didn’t do it all alone.
Jacob late approached for our rendezvous, whispering we must flee this place; pain laden on his face, no more wonderings.
He slumped his head, revenge for some trader’s pretty girl who refused to take his bed.


I’m not saying that it’s ok but there’s a reason he’s that way,
Starve the body for so long you begin to see your own decay and
I’m not saying that it’s ok but there’s a reason he’s that way,
Soak the body in so much death it begins to seep through every breath and I’m not saying it’s ok but there’s a reason he’s that way,
Starve the body for so long you begin to witness your own decay.


When I was 42 with untold roads beneath my feet, it was wise to keep your eyes on the ground if we should meet.
An old preacher slunk beside me in a squalid crowded bar;
He said I can absolve your minds shadows, no soul ever strays to far.
I grabbed his tongue and asked him to repeat what he had said; my reply was visceral not vitriol, I removed an eye from his head.
I tore the pages from his precious book; thrust them into his mouth;
Lucifer they all cried out and I thought that was well met.
Now some call me a ghost, others call me death but most just call me the chaff that’s blowing in the wind and…


I’m not saying that’s ok but there’s a reason I’m this way,
Starve the body for so long you begin to see your own decay and
I’m not saying that’s ok but there’s a reason I’m this way,
Soak the body in so much death it begins to seep through every breath and I’m not saying that it’s ok but there’s a reason I’m this way,
Suffocate the senses for so much time that every breath becomes a crime.
I’m not saying that it’s ok but there’s a reason I’m this way,
Starved my body for so long I've begun to witness my own decay.

Do roses bloom in vain? No they don’t need your love.
This goes on, it goes on and on: like crows, they spread their wings
and fly away, they don’t look back to see what remains of their prey
and I won’t pray to empty walls. This goes on, it goes on and on and…
I’m not saying that it’s ok; I’m not saying it’s ok, its ok, its ok, it’s ok
and I want to die but I’ve never lived so I don’t know how.