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The Wytches
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Robe For Juda
The putrid tongue said who's in front
Is cheap and bound to die
Like any man will hold your hand
And spit then put them together
I want to be there
I want to see it
Oh what do you wear
But the Robe for Juda?
When I search for her
I hold her out
Until we're above a fire
When I search for her
I hold her out
Until we're above a fire
The haze a steam, a lucid dream
Of minds that were starved of ideas
Then spat me out some dirty mouth
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With words that bought us together
And I want to be there
When you came just to leave her
Oh what did you wear
But the Robe for Juda
When I search for her
I hold her out
Until we're above a fire
When I search for her
I hold her out
Until we're above a fire
When I search for her,
When I search for her,
When I search for her,
When I search for her...
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