Well I thought I'd like to miss you
But I wasn't thinking right
I got something in my sorrow
That believes the night
And I started thinking of you
And your hair all grey and white
I got something in my spine, oh
It believes the light
Without seventy witches I'm making it work
If I'm hauling alone is there any worth
Only to be the healer who's making it hurt
Without seventy witches I'm makin it work
Is there tension in your shoulders
When I hang in your town
Is it harming whatever you're holding
Go on get it out
See the devil he lost his golden
Put the truth in my mouth
And my hunger it is growing
For the crooked route for the crooked route
Let me rid of your witches they're waiting to go
Are you gonna have em along for the end of the road
Only to be the heathen whose getting your goat
Without you knowing it
Are we headed into the ground
Burning out
I will hang around the place to see it down
Around
Cleaning house
I will hunger for you when the days run out
