That Peculiar Sort Of Clarity Hell Affords Songtext

death marches along in strait lines with headlights on,
and uncrushed snow rests upon cemetery lawns.
some people only yield to funeral processions.
some people only stop at the center of that attention,
but the very veins of the leaves were traced by your fingertips.
the very essence of my life passed by your holy lips,
and today i will call you sovereign Lord.