The Wounded

Mr. Faithful

The Wounded


The ghost that guarded my soul has fled from me
And left me here alone
What was once my tunnel of light became a stinking hole
A rotting conclusion of my life
And at my grave a priest for remembrance should have prayed
Under heroic flags I should have lain

And it makes me want to follow
The way you had in mind
I would hail you for your wisdom
If you would lay your hands in mine
Every minute that I’ve waited
Every hour that I’ve lived
No war would stop me from following you
Even peace can't keep me here

This shrunken shroud doesn’t fit me no more
I have betrayed my honesty
I cry in shame
This shrunken veil doesn’t fit me no more
Unrecognizable to my loved ones
I walk alone

This shrunken shroud doesn’t fit me no more
Unrecognizable to myself
I walk away

Where are the flowers, where is the light
Where is the grave that remembers my life
Where is the glory, where are the priests
Now rise your hands and let us get over with
This life I lived. Was it your knife
Did it end my life. Was it your knife
Did it finish my life. Was it your knife
Did you end my life
Was it your knife