When The Morning Comes

Wake up in sweat dancing with a dead gentleman
Stabbed him in the eye and watched his spirit rise to heaven
Lazy as a ghost floating through the host of evil dreams
When the morning comes, comb your hair
Wash your face of crimes
Polished wings, you’re out the door
When the morning comes, comb your hair
Look back into the mirror
Wash your eyes of murderous tears
Haunted by the cold blood drip from the folds of a peaceful man
Fallen with a smile, knowing he won’t di in demon dreams
Drift into the now, brathe into the mouth of satan
When the morning comes, comb your hair
Wash your face of crimes
Polished wings, you’re out the door
When the morning comes, comb your hair
Look back into the mirror
Wash your eyes of murderous tears