Little Hammer - Pale Saints

Pounding away in the back of my head
Until I've almost lost myself
And those red and black patterns
In which nothing happens, have made me sleep

A beautiful voice is a nail
Being pulled out of wood
Carry on little hammer
You were always my favorite toy

When the world's dead to me
In my soft [unverified] fortunate cushion of pins [unverified]
Is a soldier [unverified]
The unfortunate truth sneaking in