The Prayer

My mountain is a mole hill, my throne's a busted chair
This crown has turned to rust and it's all tangled in my hair
This high horse that I ride on is gonna buckle at the knee
Upon my castle made of sand I cannot be the king of me

There's the man in white, his words are painted red
There's power in his blood and only truth in what he said
There's the man in black with a needle in his vein
Lyin' flat upon his back, this is the prayer that he once prayed

He said, "My mountain is a mole hill, my throne's a busted chair
This crown has turned to rust and it's all tangled in my hair
This high horse that I ride on is gonna buckle at the knee
On my castle made of sand I cannot be the king of me"

And this harem in my heart is filled with hot metal and fool's gold
Watch your statue turns to dirt
All that's left in the end is your soul
God save your soul

So he said, "Shout out of control
With all your heart and soul
Though this cold world may tear you apart
Let the whole world know"

My mountain is a mole hill, my throne's a busted chair
This crown has turned to rust and it's all tangled in my hair
This high horse that I ride on is gonna buckle at the knee
Upon my castle made of sand I cannot be the king of me

My mountain is a mole hill, my throne's a busted chair
This crown has turn to rust and it's all tangled in my hair
This high horse that I ride on is gonna buckle at the knee
Upon my castle made of sand I cannot be the king of me

Lord I am just a man
I cannot be the King of me



Credits
Writer(s): James Watson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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