God's Great Dust Storm

Hold my head

Hold my faith

Hold my eyes to the sky

When my scythe has

Has me cut in

God's great

Great dust storm

Take my sins

Wash them clean

Pour a drink on my bones

And watch them

Watch them burn in

God's great

Great dust storm

I'll be your gimp

Whipped through the skin

In the hour that you come

There are greedy crows in

God's great

Great dust storm

I walked the line

In my best black suit

Through fields in sweet quiet mourn

Please let the faithful come forth in

God's great

Great dust

God's great

Great dust

God's great

Great dust storm