St. Peter's Bones

Growing tired, barely walking
 Walking over this sweet grave
 Winds grew bolder, bruised my shoulder
 Not much left to say
 Sweet and spare now, holy sparrow
 Singing softly outside
 When it's colder, we'll feel older
 Not much left to hide
 We are breathing, we are seething
 We are hardly underway
 We have high hopes like the old popes
 Even St. Peter's bones decay
 In the old times, we made up rhymes
 To sing ourselves to sleep at night
 It was wild means, singing horse dreams
 Did nothing wrong and nothing right
 We are breathing, we are seething
 We are hardly underway
 We have high hopes like the old popes
 Even St. Peter's bones decay
 Making wishes like wine
 Losing sleep and losing time
 Maybe silver or green
 The world alive, the world unseen
 We are breathing, we are seething
 We are hardly underway
 We have high hopes like the old popes
 Even St. Peter's bones decay