P.T. Blues

I've got wringing hands and they're raw
A tanned leather red I never asked from the sun
Maybe it's a penance for the sins I've committed?
Or maybe it's just
The way things are gonna be now that I've lost my mind
The world, the world is all on fire and I won't make the water, I won't make the water in time

I've got wringing hands and they're raw
A hold over burn from the last good sun
Maybe it's prophetic? Or I'm just pathetic
Or maybe it's just
The way things are gonna be now that I've lost my mind
The world, the world is all on fire and I won't make the water, I won't make the water in time
To save myself
From the bloodmonths calling at my window
From thrashing limbs against the glass, I'm rattled
The earth is roaring
I rest eyes inside of my palms
I'd rather put my faith in flesh
Than the bloodmonths calling at my window, my window
I've got wringing hands
I've got wringing hands and they're raw