Hand of the Sculptor

There's only a ghost left of main street And a mean old sky pressing down For five long days every single week I'm getting eaten alive by this town And the doorways' a mouth of a monster Made of bricks piled up to the sky With windows like eyes that are haunted The factory wants you for life But my body refuses the burden And my spirit rebels to the bone It ain't been in vain, all of this hurtin' Hand of the sculptor, I am the stone So do with me what you're gonna do with me. The crashing and burning is over But the dust ain't quite settled down There might be a few things I could have told her And it all would be different now But I sell off anything of any value And I settle some emotional debt I don't let on to where I might be going Don't know how far it is I might get And my body refuses the burden And my spirit rebels to the bone It ain't been in vain, all of this hurting Hand of the sculptor, I am the stone So do with me what you're gonna do with me. Now I'm back up against the ropes again And I might have to swing my way out But it ain't no big thing, cause life's gonna hurt you Hand of the sculptor, I am the stone So do with me what you're gonna do with me.