Flash your language covered on the shelf in dust
This street was once a creek of a one Lord rule I trust
Duly, duly signed, Cora Cora Carter
Born of the fall, in a state of Texas
Paid in full Fort Bliss, 1936

Terre terre haute
All be hollow
He takes his breath
Away the four winds follow

Wolves tied on strings to his good words of promise
These are stones around the peoples neck
Wound on string, drawn back stern
The arrow sings to whom it may concern
Talihina boon, iron road Oklahoma

It is his spirit, it is his fruit
It is he who paint by numbers
It is his spirit, it is his fruit

Terre terre haute
All be hollow
He takes his breath
Away the four winds follow

Lord Jesus, come bestow belief
The beauty of the finished work
You regard him not risen on the ancient horizon
Think yourself too hard, go on cast your lots

Terre terre haute
All be hollow
He takes his breath
Away his spirit follow

It is his spirit, it is his fruit
It is he who paint by numbers
It is his spirit, it is his fruit
It is he who paints by numbers
Judges and Ruth

Wound on string, drawn back stern
The arrow sings to whom it may concern
Talihina boon, iron road Oklahoma
There, there, there