Diamond shot eyes
Clicking in time
See through the narrow spaces and lines
Perilous times salted and brined
Sealed up in barrels packed up in pine

And did he tell you the story
Of the glorious glory
That can never be touched or felt
But we believe to be [bad word] 
Sparrows entwine shrouded in vines
Have replaced the marrow
And straighted the spine
horse shot with iron
Stamps just behind
forehead thats furrowed
face wrecked by time

And did he tell you the story