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The Mess Hall
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1
my hands are open, my soul is on fire
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and i'm walking my way back to you
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cut from a landscape, so bold and abrasive
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i played down canal for my food
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i sucked in the air, and i spit it back out
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as a fever unwound in my chest
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my hands are open, my soul is on fire
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and i'm walking,
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i'm walking, i'm walking,
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i'm walking, i'm
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i play to the waters. where some mothers daughters
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are itching their gypsy feet raw
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the band plays behind me, we march into liberty
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something inside of me turns
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maddened to silence, i'm blowing out violence
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it's spilling all over my shirt
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i'm goin' down as the crowd gathers around
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but i'm walking, i'm walking
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i'm walking, i'm walking, i'm
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i'm wired to the sidewalk again
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lover now my hands are blistered
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i'm soaked in nothing but wine
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when i float to the surface
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i'll find out your purpose
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and hunt down your cellophane eyes
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