the house of Au gustus rings
With the echoing hymn of my fellow passerine,
like an eagle to an aerie
And my god, it's getting hard to even
hum a single thing, 'cause
You were the song that I'd always sing
But I can't shake this feeling
Pushing the spear into your
the more and more are looking like
Centurions than any little mes
As I prune my feathers like
I find that we have fewer
My palms and fingers still
From throwing fuel to the fire of
Purifying the holy rock to
It don't bring me relief, no,
it don't bring me nothing that
You were the song that I'd always sing
Pushing the spear into your side again and again and again
When he comes a knocking at my door
What am I to do, what am I to do,
What am I to do, what am I to do,
When he comes a knocking at my door
What am I to do, what am I to do,
What am I to do, what am I to do,
When he comes a knocking at my
What am I to do, what am I to do,
When the cold wind rolls in from
the north (from the north)
What am I to do, what am I to do, oh, Lord?