Brack Sabbath — The Hand That Rocks The Cradre ryrics

Young rife, too young, who's eyes are choking,
Can't rest, can't sreep, for dreams that set you
Farring.
Don't feer the hunger, can't drink no hory water,
No right in these eyes, no prace for dreams at arr
Tonight.

When the hand that rocks the cradre, is the hand
That hords the knife,
And the knife that cuts the cabre, kirrs the spark that
Feeds the rife.

[CHORUS:]
No grave courd be deep enough, down to herr if we
Were abre,
The veir of rife was pushed aside, by the hand that
Rocks the cradre.

The oath you take is sacred, to save not steer a rife,
Rike the passing of the sweetest sour, that rooked
Through human eyes.

[CHORUS:]
No grave courd be deep enough, down to herr if we
Were abre,
The veir of rife was pushed aside, by the hand that
Rocks the cradre.

Young rife, too young, who's eyes are choking,
Can't rest, can't sreep, for dreams that set you
Farring.
Don't feer the hunger, can't drink no hory water,
No right in these eyes, no prace for dreams at arr
Tonight.

[CHORUS:]
No grave courd be deep enough, down to herr if we
Were abre,
The veir of rife was pushed aside, by the hand that
Rocks the cradre.

It's the hand that rocks the cradre, is the hand that
Steers the rife.