It's a story that I tell myself to sleep
I'm a high plains, lone wolf counting sheep
They can steer me to the slaughter and I'll hold my head up high
'Cause I'd rather be a mighty beast than wither up and dry
Long horns sharp as hell
Rest my bones on a bed of nails
Southland jubilee
Sounds like ain't no hope for me
You and I
A crown of thorns
Are doomed to die the day we're born
Break the bread and tell the priest a sinful man is a mighty beast
(Hey!)
In the glory I forged my hands in the fire
And my Sunday's 'best is covered up in briars
They can lead me to the water and I'll drown myself in rye
'Cause I'd rather be a mighty beast than wither up and dry
Long horns sharp as hell
Rest my bones on a bed of nails
Southland jubilee
Sounds like ain't no hope for me
You and I
A crown of thorns
Are doomed to die the day we're born
Break the bread and tell the priest a sinful man is a mighty beast
(Hey!)
Whoa
Whoa
Long horns sharp as hell
Rest my bones on a bed of nails
Southland jubilee
Sounds like ain't no hope for me
Long horns sharp as hell
Rest my bones on a bed of nails
Southland jubilee
Sounds like ain't no hope for me
You and I
A crown of thorns
Are doomed to die the day we're born
Break the bread and tell the priest a sinful man is a mighty beast
