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The Preacher

de Emily Jane White

One, two, three, four

You're like a brother
Oh, to me
A drunken lover
Climbed up on me
No, I did not ask for your rings
No, I did not ask for these things

With a candle
And an axe
Light the bed frame
Leave the wax
You said I will not take you with me
We watched the wind fall a tree
Thank you for sparing me

But, oh, unto the preacher
Oh, you have no name
And oh, under the serpent's lair is where you lay
The Moon it hangs high
In the night sky

Oh, your robes were
Worn straight thin
Oh, damaged
Oh, within

You said, I'm a hollow house of a man
A dour requiem plays within
But nobody plucks a string
A handless symphony
That's why I did not ask for these things

But, oh, unto the preacher
Oh, you have no name
And oh, under the serpent's lair is where you lay
The Moon still hangs high
In the night sky

To thine own self be true
In a dark corridor, I found you
To cast a light in the dark
On two already broken hearts
But I walk separately
Thank you for sparing me

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