Brandi Carlile - Broken Horses lyrics

I wear my father's leather on
The inside of my skin
I'm a tried and weathered woman
But I won't be tried again
Don't think that you can come for
Me without your Sunday best
You had better call your priest and
Hope the devil gets the rest before I do
Oh, and I will do

I've worn the jester's bells and I
Have vanished with the fools
I have worshiped at the altar
Of the puppet master's rule
I have hеld my tongue too many
Scenes bеfore the final act
With my children in the cheap seats
And a zipper on my back thanks to you
No thanks to you

Tethered in wide open spaces
In fields that lead for miles
Right into the barrel of a gun
Mendin' up your fences with my
Horses runnin' wild
Only broken horses know to run

I have ever so politely treaded
Softly for your praise
I have whispered through the tears and
Pleaded sweetly to your face
It is time to spit you out
Like lukewarm water from my mouth
I will always taste the apathy
But I won't pass it down enough with you
You, you

Tethered in wide open spaces
In fields that lead for miles
Right into the barrel of a gun
Mendin' up your fences with my
Horses runnin' wild
Only broken horses know to run

I wear my father's leather on
The inside of my skin
I'm a tried and weathered woman
But I won't be tried again
Don't think that you can come for
Me without your Sunday best
You had better call your priest and
Hope the devil gets the rest before I do
Oh, and I will do

Tethered in wide open spaces
In fields that lead for miles
Right into the barrel of a gun
Mendin' up your fences with my
Horses runnin' wild
Only broken horses know to run