Yellow and Grey
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I'm a waltzer by practice and a mason by trade
I come as I will and I go as I may
I'm paid by the patrons whose torsos inlay
These walls long after their bodies decay
Bodies decay
When the wind and the rain turns their features to sand
Remains but an arm and a two-fingered hand
Oh, one finger points to the earth where I lay
And one to the limestone of yellow and gray
Yellow and gray
Upon it the marks of the workers long gone
Their trades in the grave, but their bodies live on
Well, if St. Francis knew what I made him today
Oh, him and his birds they would just turn away
And have nothing to say
I'm a waltzer by practice and a mason by trade