See me, the saint of the sloping lead
No feed for beggar's horses
I'm all blood, son, but I still bleed
Beware the forks and torches
Son, beware the man
Who only lives to win
It breaks a strong boy's spine
To carry big men like them
Build bridges in your homes
Leave lights out on your porches
Through the field, there's a road
That walks a thousand thin horses
Beware the ones who name the sins
Their hearses often golden
Beware the forks and torches, son
And the hands that hold them
Son, beware the man
Who only lives to win
It breaks a strong boy's spine
To carry big men like them
Build bridges in your homes
Leave lights out on your porches
Through the field, there's a road
That walks a thousand thin horses
Build bridges in your homes
Leave lights out on your porches
Through the field, there's a road
That walks a thousand thin horses
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB