Ignite, show their faces
Set the tapestry on fire

You've dripped merely a few feet away from my pew
And what isn't a plank in my eye is completely out of view
Weaving a picture from the threads of lies
Caught up in the image, can't see what's inside

Edge burns a coil in the breeze
Silk spins in the desert of our dreams

They coagulate like milk fat from the chew
Shedding sun spills spoils on 99 percent of you
Wipe up thе drippings with crumpled faces of fathers
Burning thе rest not blood dressed, with no care nor bother
Take down their artifice, ten thousand threads
Count the dead, you're outspent, armored rotten burlap
It reeks in here, at the root, at the core
There's no feed, there's no giver, there's no creek, there's no savior

It hangs in the doorway
It hangs in the doorway
It hangs in the doorway
It hangs in the doorway