Text:
Iron Wine Arms Of A Thief

was bored of her weight, she was bored of her words The daughter of a soldier told the fallen priest "That's a cold, cold place in the arms of a thief

on a night there was no room to stand And like a letter in a stolen purse She was bored of her weight, she was bored of her words The daughter of a soldier

was bored of her weight, she was bored of her words The daughter of a soldier told the fallen priest "That's a cold, cold place in the arms of a thief

was bored of her weight, she was bored of her words The daughter of a soldier told the fallen priest "That's a cold, cold place in the arms of a thief