Bruised Orange (Chain of Sorrow)

My heart's in the ice house, come hill or come valley

Like a long ago Sunday when I walked through the alley

On a cold winter's morning, to a church house just to shovel some snow

I heard sirens on the train track, howl naked, gettin' nuder

An altar boy's been hit by a local commuter

Just walking with his back turned to the train

That was coming so slow

You can gaze out the window, get mad and get madder

Throw your hands in the air, say "What does it matter?"

But it don't do no good to get angry, so help me I know

For a heart stained with anger, grows weak and grows bitter

You become your own prisoner, as you watch yourself sit there

Wrapped up in a trap of your very own chain of sorrow

I been brought down to zero, pulled out and put back there

I sat on a park bench, kissed the girl with the black hair

And my head should down to my heart

"You better look out below"

Hey, it ain't such a long drop, don't stammer, don't stutter

From the diamonds in the sidewalk, to the dirt in the gutter

And you carry those bruises to remind you, wherever you go

You can gaze out the window, get mad and get madder

Throw your hands in the air, say "What does it matter?"

But it don't do no good to get angry, so help me I know

For a heart stained with anger, grows weak and grows bitter

You become your own prisoner, as you watch yourself sit there

Wrapped up in a trap of your very own chain of sorrow

My hearts in the ice house, come hill or come valley

Like a long ago Sunday when I walked through the alley

On a cold winter's morning, to a church house just to shovel some snow