These Arms Are Snakes

Ghost with a grin outside a skin house
Set in the middle of a forty acre marsh
Wrapped in moisture, growing, living things
All around the dead arms, dead arms of spring
It was my stab at faith, a losing one
Derailing any one I had
You take my hand and threw me in the
Grave, grave, grave, grave, yeah
Now hold your throat
The airs a little worse than last week
Its little bit warmer than last week
Its not like you werent informed
Youre enlightened now
It makes no difference anyway
Were all on the same list of names
Black tar running from your mouth
Engine exhaust smoking out your ears
Yellow nails and hair like
Twine, twine, twine, twine, yeah
Slow fuel on your side, sharp tip
Running water black as night
Im not sure if youre really that informed
Youre like a small bird needing to be fed
Its probably something you wont take well
Loosening every state
Trying to rearrange
The way I want to look
Take some out altogether
Move a few close together
And sing, sing a long
Its the death rattle hymn
For a place removed from inside
Its for the party of sins which always
Wins a place down below
Car balanced on an old wood chair
Barely hanging on
And Ill be there
[ Lady North Lyrics ]