Demon Host - Timber Timbre

Death, she must have been your will

A bone beneath the reaper’s veil

With your voice my belly sunk

And I began to feel so drunk

Candle, candle, on my clock

Oh Lord, I must have heard you knock me out of bed

As the flames licked my head

And my lungs filled up black in their tiny little shack

It was real and I repent

All those messages you sent, clear as day, but in the night

Oh, I couldn’t get it right

Here is a church and here is a steeple

Open the doors there are the people

And all their little hearts at ease

For another week’s disease

And eagle, eagle, talon, and scream

I never once left in between

I was on the fence and I never wanted your two cents

Down my throat, in to the pit, with my head upon the spit

Oh Reverend, please, can I chew your ear?

I’ve become what I most fear

And I know there’s no such thing as ghosts

But I have seen the demon host