All The Good Horses (Album Version) Lyrics

I'm riding in boxes to a place in the sky

There's a floor above the ceiling of the island in my eye

I'm keeping my money and I'm keeping you in my mind

I've been waiting, unwanted, unspared, still alive

It's all the good horses in the graves of dead men

They litigate our divorces and they hate all our friends

Your heart is a corset wrapped tight around my head

My mouth's getting hungry for the hand it's been fed

For the hand it's been fed

The ground's been shaking like the fists of the rich

At the feet of the broken, like scratching an itch it can't fix

I'm down in the gutter, feeling dead and getting stiff

As the clouds have been crying, and these suits, they throw their fits

It's all the good horses in the graves of dead men

They litigate our divorces and they hate all our friends

Your heart is a corset wrapped tight around my head

My mouth's getting hungry for the hand it's been fed

For the hand it's been fed, For the hand it's been fed