Flat hand, open palm   Your mouth was screaming, your eyes were calm   Flat land, 23rd Psalm   Little Bo Peep, your sheep done gone      Flat hand to leave no trace   Mark where the nail went, left a scratch across your face   Flat land, glittering strand   Lover?s angels banished from the sand      No eyes shine brighter   To the flailing, failing fighter   Who once held above her head   A glowing trembling lighter      No heart pounds harder to the sinking, drinking martyr   Who trembled on the bank   As her last dream boat sank   Beneath the deep and sleepless water      Holy Mary, hold the phone   I want a little baby that?s all my own   Hold the line, hold me tight   I got a hole in my arm and I can?t get it right      Holy flesh, howlin? bones   Run off and left me, all alone   Hopped up boy, hothouse frail   I got a hole in my arm and I know, I?m bound to fail      Blood of my blood is what you are   No wise man?s gift sent from afar   Blood of my blood flows through your veins   And bound our hearts in crimson chains