a song for a room

[jimbo]

i dont want your fecking money,
i dont want your fecking drugs,
i dont want your heathen soles,
i dont want your faceless mugs.

i spent six years in the desert,
picking weeds of waistless souls
with The devil on the Mountain,
trying to throw his waitless stones.

Drinking spirit of the devil,
since this shattered life began,
peering through my empty glasses
inthe land of the bedamed.

chorus

now the villages are singing
little sparrow n the air
with their voices they are ringing
untold bells in places fair.