Lyrics

Banquet of Stone
(D. Miller, G. Geanuracos)
The Wheels keep turning and I keep wishing
That I didn’t have to go
My just deserts is a sinners rope
My wife is the gallows pole

My hands are shackled my face is covered
The preacher is speaking to God
In 25 minutes I’ll retire eternal
Under the leaves and the sod

Ten feet high looking six feet under
No one's around but the sheriff that found her
The village has peace and the buzzards have supper
Now that I’m hanging alone

Bury my body far from the City
Facedown so I’m staring at home
Cause I’ll never make brothers with choirs of angels
Just feed me my banquet of stone
Just feed me my banquet of stone