Portraits of the Poor Lyrics

Finger painting pictures
Of this sad existence
Fixed with stitches none the richer
You could never call me poor
Bled out the old me
Family does not know me now
Someone better show me how to live
Now the times nigh
In the night sky
How can you walk away
This is your lifetime
Don't let them break you
Let this torture be exposed
Can you paint me a picture
A portrait of your soul
All the discarded and the broken
All they martyrs and the orphaned
All the soldiers and the sovereign
All the sisters of the fallen

There's a bad moon
In the rearview
And a blood son
On the horizon