Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
James Swetland
Songwriter
Lyrics
I'm not here to preach
Not here to teach
Not sure I'm here for anything
In the slaughterhouse of doom
There's a room for you
Kept by a god who's sick of you
May god rest
Your weary eyes
Just stay away from the heart that's mine, mine
Can you guess
What makes me cry
I can't show what I can't hide, hide
Bed ridden, sick
Lay down in my pit
This is my body, eat of it
With this tiny life
And death by our side
God rest these weary eyes
And as we stumble down that road
Stealing words and selling our souls
Therein lies the question we can't hide
Will pride be a knife in the side
May god rest
Your weary eyes
Just stay away from the heart that's mine, mine
Can you guess
What makes me cry
I can't show what I can't hide, hide
Written by: James Swetland
