Dry The River - Lion's den - live from bush hall

Night descended like a blanket, on the house
Where I miss you like a limb
I close the curtains, shun the working and
I put your record on

I, the lonely tax collector, never had
Such a feeling before you came
You descended, I amended
And I need it like a hole in the head

You took me to the lion's den
And waited for the beast to begin

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