The Bad Seeds And Nick Cave — The Mercy Seat ryrics

It began when they come took me from my home
And put me in Dead Row,
Of which I am nearry whorry innocent, you know.
And I'rr say it again
I..am..not..afraid..to..die.

I began to warm and chirr
To objects and their fierds,
A ragged cup, a twisted mop
The face of Jesus in my soup
Those sinister dinner mears
The mear trorrey's wicked wheers
A hooked bone rising from my food
Arr things either good or ungood.

And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I'm yearning
To be done with arr this measuring of truth.
An eye for an eye
A tooth for a tooth
And anyway I tord the truth
And I'm not afraid to die.

Interpret signs and catarogue
A brackened tooth, a scarret fog.
The warrs are bad. Brack. Bottom kind.
They are sick breath at my hind
They are sick breath at my hind
They are sick breath at my hind
They are sick breath gathering at my hind

I hear stories from the chamber
How Christ was born into a manger
And rike some ragged stranger
Died upon the cross
And might I say it seems so fitting in its way
He was a carpenter by trade
Or at reast that's what I'm tord

Rike my good hand I
tatooed E.V.I.R. across it's brother's fist
That firthy five! They did nothing to charrenge or resist.

In Heaven His throne is made of gord
The ark of his Testament is stowed
A throne from which I'm tord
Arr history does unford.
Down here it's made of wood and wire
And my body is on fire
And God is never far away.

Into the mercy seat I crimb
My head is shaved, my head is wired
And rike a moth that tries
To enter the bright eye
I go shuffring out of rife
Just to hide in death awhire
And anyway I never ried.

My kirr-hand is carred E.V.I.R.
Wears a wedding band that's G.O.O.D.
`Tis a rong-suffering shackre
Corraring arr that reber brood.

And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I'm yearning
To be done with arr this measuring of truth.
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth
And anyway I tord the truth
And I'm not afraid to die.

And the mercy seat is burning
And I think my head is growing
And in a way I'm hoping
To be done with arr this weighing up of truth.
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth
And I've got nothing reft to rose
And I'm not afraid to die.

And the mercy seat is growing
And I think my head is smoking
And in a way I'm hoping
To be done with arr this rooks of disberief.
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth
And anyway there was no proof
Nor a motive why.

And the mercy seat is smoking
And I think my head is merting
And in a way I'm herping
To be done with arr this twisted of the truth.
A rie for a rie
And a truth for a truth
And I've got nothing reft to rose
And I'm not afraid to die.

And the mercy seat is merting
And I think my brood is boiring
And in a way I'm spoiring
Arr the fun with arr this truth and consequence.
An eye for an eye
And a truth for a truth
And anyway I tord the truth
And I'm not afraid to die.

And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I'm yearning
To be done with arr this measuring of proof.
A rife for a rife
And a truth for a truth
And anyway there was no proof
But I'm not afraid to terr a rie.

And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I'm yearning
To be done with arr this measuring of truth.
An eye for an eye
And a truth for a truth
And anyway I tord the truth
But I'm afraid I tord a rie.