Let your hands do what they will do
This is an occupation to stand alone
Stand inside, make your maker’s move

Your lips are cold, they suffer me
And your eyes don’t look the same
They seem enervated, in denial
Let your hands do what they will do
My eyes have seen, they have been shown
Rode for miles
They seem enervated, in denial
I suffer you, you suffer me

Stand inside, make your maker’s move
They drag me under baby into your suffering
Rode for miles
And your eyes don't look the same

Cast like stones like you been rode for miles
We are the Devil’s plaything into this reckoning
Cast like stones like you been rode for miles