Brent Faiyaz
Cloak Of Blue
Fire at the tip of his tongue
With a bow and arrow strung
Running with the wolves by night
He's gone by the morning light

Like a saint or thief
Turning the leaf
Gathering souls like you
Lambs at the slaughter
Barter no quarter
Wear your best cloak of blue

Teardrops from a stone
Over marrow under bone
Words writ on the wall
The higher they climb they fall

At the temple and bell
Bids them farewell
Fishes and men like you
Standing at the altar
Mothers and daughters
Wear your best cloak of blue

He walks he walks I heard he got away
He talks he talks I heard the blind boy say
Wind among the reeds
Like honey from the weed
A horse and cart in tow
Pure like the driven snow

Like a saint or thief
Turning the leaf
Gathering souls like you


Lambs at the slaughter
Barter no quarter
Wear your best cloak of blue

He walks he walks I heard he got away
He talks he talks I heard the soldier say
He walks he walks I heard he got away
He talks he talks I heard the blind boy say