When the Paint Grows Darker Still

I am just a weary singer

Moving through this world of ills

Hark the choir of predecessors

When the paint grows darker still

Once I found a golden trumpet

In the mash of an old landfill

Now I play for the spirits

When the paint grows darker still

Winter waited in my garden

When the sun did refuse to shine

Honeybees all in a slumber

Skies filled up the sea

Falling down on me

Winter waited in my garden

When the sun did refuse to shine

Honeybees are in a slumber

Skies filled up the sea

Falling down on me

See his eyes turn to stained glass

Head to toe in a black roadkill

Here I am for your judgment

When the paint grows darker still

When the paint grows darker still

When the paint grows darker still