[Whispers] His dreams gone, and all the smiles have faded they call him mask to k** the child who came in (oh) These hands beat red with those mercy k**ings good eye, dead man you hit your mark again These hands beat red with those mercy k**ings good eye, dead man you hit your mark again oh! And now his words beg for same damn thing now; to return to someplace far behind now (oh) this arm has broken more china than you know these fists are squeezed too tightly ever to let go these are the syncopations of these weary bones, bones These hands beat red with those mercy k**ings good eye, dead man you hit your mark again and This time, this time, this time I walk these avenues to find The place where I can let these dreams and demons go... and finally rest my weary bones, bones, bones, bones