Текст песни Your Enemy - Heath McNease

Oh, oh, oh oh

These hands,
They're covered in blood
These idle hands,
They choke the life of everyone I love

So is there room
At your table for me?
So is there room
At your kingdom for me?

Oh, oh, oh oh

These hands,
These broken hands
Help me dig my grave
These tired hands,
Are too weak
To shovel dirt back on the bed I made

So is there room
At your table for me?
So is there room
For your enemy?

So is there room
At your table for me?
So is there room
For your enemy?