Saint of Scrap Metal

The saint of scrap metal, careening toward heaven Siphoning gas in the dark Unbeatable tremor, a need like a lover Who’ll steal what you live for and sell it for parts Somebody’s baby on foster and 80th Lit up in headlights and steam Who’s gonna pray for that saint to go safely Into the cradle of dreams Rain on aluminum, lighter and spoon An unbeautiful altar to god A black ring of ashes, the birds in the branches Have flown, they’ve seen more than enough An unlucky hero, a heavyweight struggle And everyone turning to leave Who’s gonna pray for that fighter to stumblе, into the cradle of dreams Thе saint of stripped copper, a kid, a father A brother, a killer, a friend Bent like a dancer, bright perilous flower Reaching for rapture or death But heaven is closer, for those who are born With that gold dust already in reach Who’s gonna open the door for that dancer to fall in the cradle of dreams Tarpaulin angel, the deeper the pain feels The deeper the final release Who’s gonna lower that saint in the gold dust To rest in the cradle of dreams