Black Rider On The Storm

Lyrics

[Verse 1] There's a black rider on the storm Waving his hand to the foregone He cuts his hand upon the knife And licks it clean to see his dreams Can't you see the living truth? Just like the Muslims and the Jews And the Christians who knew They were born into a world where they have to die [Chorus 1] I grow weary of this world I grow tired of the games that these men play I can hear the voice of God calling my name [Verse 2] Here in amongst the brush and sage I can hеar the desert song How could I еver sing along If I'm just lost upon my way? I'm just a poor and troubled man Lost in a foreign land Holding in his calloused hands a sacred masterplan The words of my God, my own way of life [Chorus 2] I grow weary of this world I'm growing tired of the games that these men play I can hear the voice of God calling my name [Verse 3] I hear the distant cry Of the ghost up in the sky Send shivers down my spine Every goddamn time I close my eyes As you sit upon your chair with no time left to spare And no life to repair, oh, death does not care That your wife's been unfair And if Justice is there, He is blind [Chorus 3] I grow weary of this world I grow tired of the foolish games that you play I can hear the voice of God calling my name [Outro] Calling my name Calling my name