Testo Innkeepers

This is what it looks like
On repeat inside of this life
Hair of the dog eating dogfight
Oh, this is what it looks like

Our names on that marquee
We must say we're proud of our teeth
Some bitten hands at the feeding Oh, but our name's on that marquee

Maybe we turn around and turn to salt
Make a scene, then refuse to blame the fall
Maybe Christ who slept don't sleep at all

When they introduce us
To the dogwood with a nail gun
Know that we go with confusion
Oh, when they introduce us

Maybe you will return with ivory feet
Maybe true, time will fuse the chaff and wheat
Is the Christ who slept asleep on me?
My best friend, see your soul is overdressed
What I meant, you're too chickenshit to guess
And I can't help but wonder
As we return to dust
Is the Christ who slept asleep with us?