Blue Pail Fever - Wovenhand

Thy will be done

Here on this highway

In every house and field I pray

All in meekness yield

Aided by want

Among stranger people

To disgrace so soon I’ve come

Drift like sleep

Into the hotel montana

Lay low for thy names sake

El matador Louisiana

Full of bulls, blood and what not

Coarse jest to a tight knot

You are not acquainted with your own heart

Frozen prayer upon my lips

Inside the blood runs hot

He was reviled, yet he reviled not

Drift like sleep

Into the hotel montana

Lay low for thy names sake

El matador Louisiana

Like a voice in an empty house

Breath your breath

And speak to me

And speak through me

It’s a dry leaf that shivers on the branch

What matter if the wind cast it down

With a ruthless hand

Cause we remember always

That it took place forever

Thy kingdom come in

Whosoever