The Tent

With my sword of steel, I come to you 900 strong
Hand held swords are no match for chariots of bronze

And the clouds arise, like my hand, on your shoulder
The Sand

They worship me, in my youth I spared no one
Exploding steel in flesh, my greatest pleasure has begun

And the rain falls, on the land
LIke my raven hair in your hand
She gathers myrrh, spikenard, hyssop and sage
She gathers in, as the storm begins to rage
They slaughtered them, the blood spilled on the land
The might captain fled, leaving corpses in the sand
In the desert lies a Tent on a shoulder of Sand
She comes to you, white linen blouse barely sewn
She comforts you, as you are hunted by men of stone

If you pleasure me, I will let you in

She lay down with him and drove a stake right through his head
And the sands rose
And the sands fall down
And the sands rose
And the sands fall down
As the earth turns around



Credits
Writer(s): Sharon Eliashar
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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