I let a sparrow
Talk me out of the crib
Made of mannequin arms and sycophants
She sang her caution
Thrown against the odds
I'm not tilting at windmills
I'm taking my chances
She put the feral
Back inside my voices
I'll take a cigarette and
Put it out on my arm
It's the only way that I can feel
One tempts the saint
While the other takes
The sinner away
The TelePrompTer
Has begun to rot
Where I've carried the blindest items
They'll seem to find a way
To haunt you again
I'm not tilting at windmills
I'm taking my chances
She put the feral
Back inside my voices
I'll take a cigarette and
Put it out on my arm
It's the only way that i can feel
One tempts the saint
While the other takes
The sinner away
Sung by the choir whose lungs are broken
Stung by a million justifications
Swung by the faithful grip
Of a million axes
Sung by the choir whose lungs are broken
Stung by a million justifications
Swung by the disenchanted
Not faint of heart
Pray that you never find
A place to bury you, bury you
She put the feral
Back inside my voices
I'll take a cigarette and
Put it out on my arm
It's the only way that I can feel
One tempts the saint
While the other takes
The sinner away
One tempts the saint
While the other takes
The sinner away