Search results for house of broken bone by great white

We've found 524 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching house of broken bone by great white:



Night owns my white bones
But what's left is still saying
Strange prayers in high places
Wild airs with wilder graces
Birds fly with no motion
And back again

Saw empty houses on a dead end street
People linin up for something to eat
And the ghost of America watching me
Through the broken
[Jack White and Meg White]
Rag and bone!
Rag and bone!
Rag and bone!
Rag and bone!

[Jack White]
Meg, look at this place.

[Meg White
Down in the place where I call home
I've been workin' my fingers to the bone
Pickin' white gold, pickin' white gold

All day long in Louisiana sun
Come into the union district
Drive down on Sharmon Palms
White ghettos paint a picture
Broken homes and broken bones
I was so full of scotch I
your crooked bones

Crooked bones, crooked bones
Every one of us has grown
Crooked bones, crooked bones
Live in houses made of stones

Down below
There's a winding road and a tall pine tree, by the tall pine tree, she waits for me.
Oh, yes, she waits in the little green house that sits on top
broken screams
Spitting out obscenity
Disregard all life
Take fast make strikes
Tearing flesh to bone
Nothing left, no moans
Planted bodies, shallow
your crooked bones

Crooked bones, crooked bones
Every one of us has grown
Crooked bones, crooked bones
Live in houses made of stones

Down below
anymore
Bring me some healing
Saint Cecilia, carry me home to your house of broken bones

You're out of sight, I'm out of mind
Been sitting watch your
of the above

Don't let me drown, don't breathe alone
No kicks no pangs no broken bones
Never let me sink
Always feel at home

No sticks no shanks and no
alone, no kicks no pangs no broken bones.
Never let me sink, always feel at home, no sticks no shanks and no stones.
Never leave it too late, always
alone, no kicks no pangs no broken bones.
Never let me sink, always feel at home, no sticks no shanks and no stones.
Never leave it too late, always
breath alone,
No kicks no pangs no broken bones.
Never let me sink, always feel at home,
No sticks no shanks and no stones.
Never leave it too late,
The air is turning cold outside
It's a rabbi in a brothel for the third time
The gold tooth of a broken man
A white glove in a purse down
a bunch of empty houses in every town
Well, I'd interrupt that program with a little headline of my own
This just in from the old red, white and blue
Discontent is in the air
I feel it in my bones
Chills me to the deepest reaches
Of my weary soul
You're always goin' your way
Following you
Julie and little John Tyler lived in the house next door
We would be the great triangle and to this we swore
Julie was my sweetheart, little John
And the spaces won't be spaces anymore

Two more farms were broken by the drought
First the Wagners now the Fullers pulling out
Developers paid better than
a happy home

Feels more like a haunted house

Haunted by the sounds of broken hearts

Rattlin off the chain of broken vows

It sends a chill through my
Hoof prints and foot prints deep ruts the wagons made 
The victor and the loser came by here 

No head stones but these bones bring Mascalero
a brand new life
With a great big house
And green initials on the towels
I should be happy now
Well, you got yourself a family
And you planted roots down by
a great white hope
Do you give up things that you love?
And the pressure's building 'til it takes you whole
Can you go back on your own word?

All
Lookin' for a leader
To bring our country home
Reunite the red, white and blue
Before it turns to stone
Lookin' for somebody
Young enough
a single bone will be broken
Like a sheep to the slaughter
So silently still
This must be the Lamb
They mocked his true calling and laughed at His fate