Bread and Bones – © 2004 Richard Ruane

Bread and bones, but a little too cold

Rusty knife got a little too old

Rusty knife won against a gun

I turned my heels and away I run

Away I run, but I should have stayed

Should have talked and not run away

Ran myself right out of time

They caught me down by the borderline

The borderline all fog and rain

Rocks and stone on a cold hard plain

Hurt my feet to walk a mile

They took me back to stand my trial

Oh, stood my trial, but a little too bold

Justice blind to the truth I told

They heard the truth, but would not believe

No sympathy did I receive.

No sympathy that I deserve

Bread and bones and a cold hard nerve

Bread and bones, soon a little too cold

No one to mourn, no one to hold

No one to hold or be held to

No one to tell my secrets to

Let secrets pass and fall away

Bread and bones in cold hard clay

Oh, stood my trial, but a little too bold

Justice blind to the truth I told

They heard the truth, but would not believe

No sympathy did I receive.

No sympathy that I deserve

Bread and bones and a cold hard nerve

Bread and bones, soon a little too cold

No one to mourn, no one to hold

No one to hold or be held to

No one to tell my secrets to

Let secrets pass and fall away

Bread and bones in cold hard clay

Bread and bones in cold hard clay

Bread and bones in cold hard clay