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