love cut me down
jace everett
a man that won your trust
fell to the ground beneath your feet
found love down in the dust
the promise that was hidden
in the riddles of your rhymes
some things were made anew again
the clay takes it's shape
what's left of you and me
if i could hold them in my hand
now sons of fathers came to town
a crust of stale and bitter bread
i hang my head i lost my crown
the clay takes it's shape