THE GOSPEL OF IRON Black smoke rising through the air, raven perched above the stack, Every scar I've ever carried learned to answer to my name. Hydraulic blood upon my fingers, diesel breath inside my chest, Some men search for holy water... I found mine beneath the press. The mountain never gave up secrets, every answer had its price, Every stone became a sermon, every cut became advice. She wore linen white as winter, I wore rust beneath my skin, Both of us were chasing heaven... only one was digging in. If the earth remembers footsteps, She remembers mine in steel. Every promise made of paper... Burns before the gears are real. Roll on, you iron gospel, Let your thunder shake these bones. I've heard choirs made of angels... None could sing like a Cats groan. Pour that black communion through me, Bless my tongue with bitter crude. If Heaven's built by honest hands... Then Hell knows how to move. Fourty six winters carved my knuckles long before they carved my face, I've seen kings become apprentices when the bucket found its place. Every paycheck bought me daylight, every daylight bought me rain, Every handshake left a fingerprint that never washed away. She learned all the names for sorrow written deep in printed lines, I learned sorrow weighs a thousand tons when hanging from the tines. Tell me which one knows the burden, tell me which one learned it best... One could measure human suffering... One could carry all the rest. Crows don't bargain. Steel don't flatter. Truth arrives without a sound. Only weight decides what's standing... When the walls come crashing down. Roll on, you iron gospel, Let your heartbeat drown the sky. Every piston speaks in riddles, Every cylinder asks me why. I've been baptized in the backfill, Raised where broken engines pray. Some men wait to meet their maker... Mine arrived in Yellow paint. There's a woman dressed in copper, She still whispers through the smoke. Every kiss tastes faintly of iron... Every vow dies in the throat. I've loved women. I've loved silence. I've loved things I couldn't save. Yet nothing ever held me closer... Than twenty thousand pounds of blade. The raven knows no university. The wolf has never read a creed. Still they flourish in God's kingdom... Simply being what they need. Roll on, you iron gospel, Sing the names I cannot keep. Every road I've ever followed... Still runs six feet through the deep. When they lay these hands to silence, When this old heart finally stills, Leave me where the engines idle... Facing toward the waiting hills. If another dawn should find me... Breathing through forgotten steel... Don't awaken what's still dreaming... Some machines..Are meant to feel.
