Like Dried Blood

Hey hold the hand
All the blood is dried
Seeing these mountains of shame
Telling my lies
Hey hold the hand
Of the chosen few
Can I ride the wind
Like you choose to do

Like an outlaw
Broken and wounded
Swearing at my troubles

Hey hold the hand
All these crimes I own
Old man
Is it time
Time to die

Die like evil
Die like hate
My great war is over
Just a bitter, bitter memory

Hey hold the hand
Of the chosen few
Chased like an outlaw
Bloodied, dazed and lost

Like all this blood
It will wash away
And like this blood
It will wash away