Three singing birds And a severed head At the feasting table I eat my bread No one’s praying No one’s dead But I hear the whisper Inside my head Silver cups, they overflow With a truth I didn’t want to know Every blessing casts a shadow Every light has teeth below I’m lounging where angels fear to tread Drinking wine with the dead If this is heaven, keep your crown I’ll stay here where the rules fall down Lounging where angels fear to tread Feathers in the chandelier Blood in the song they sing so clear They call it mercy, call it grace But I see hunger in its face I break the bread, I bite the bone Every altar feels like home Gold halos cracking in the heat Serpents sleeping at my feet Every prayer’s a loaded gun Pointed at the chosen one I’m lounging where angels fear to tread Making friends with the dead If this is hell, it feels like truth No clean hands, no borrowed youth Lounging where angels fear to tread Three birds circle overhead One for the living, one for the dead One for the thing I’m becoming now With blood on my mouth and a broken vow They warned me about the fall They never warned me about the feast I’m lounging where angels fear to tread No fear of what I am instead I eat the bread, I drink the sign Divinity tastes like mine Lounging where angels fear to tread Three singing birds… And a severed head… At the feasting table… I eat my bread…
