Dust

When I was few in years
A foundation outside fear
More or less a well built house
I'd open up my door to every caller with a good word to espouse
Before the wind and rain, and the whiskey and the women dilapidated me
I caught a faint glimmer out my window, and it scared the hell out of me

Cause the decay is so much easier to bare
Without whispering promises of redress in your ear

And we crumble down to dust
Like every frail thing must
And then they paint, over our defining stains
To dust
Like every frail thing must
All the while they paint, over our defining stains

We're framed in our nature
Damned for being conceived
Scolded by the hand that crafts, commanded to believe
We all long for the days, of good repair
Will the carpenter even recognize us when he comes back to bare

My house is a disaster and everything is lost
Thats when I found out that they put Jesus on the cross

And we crumble down to dust
Like every frail thing must
All the while they paint, over our defining stains
To dust
Like every frail thing must
And then they paint, over our defining stains

We are renewed and then we fade
We are consumed by the erosion of the rain

The architect takes the glory
The structure bares the weight
Weathers the storm and the rot, and the finality of fate

And we crumble down to dust