Tourniquet (Cynthia Anne)

Spin me a yarn and draw me inside
If you make me believe, I will come to you
Tell me a lie and string me along
Put your hands on my eyes and hold tight when you

Pin me down, oh-so-tight
By my phantom wrists
A tourniquet, stop the bleeding
The arms that held him, now they're gone

Promise me hope and help me to cope
With this town of nine gates in its final throes
Bring me supplies of blankets and hides
Put me into old newspaper clothes

Turn me out to the field
And untie me
A tourniquet, stop the bleeding
The arms that held him, now they're gone

Now they're gone