1-Strings Made of Smoke

I struck a chord in the ash and flame, Played my sorrow, it spoke my name. The night leaned close, the silence broke, I sang on strings that were made of smoke.

Strings made of smoke, carry my sin, Cry through the dark where the fire’s been. No holy hymn, no preacher spoke, Just my soul on strings made of smoke.

Every note’s a scar, every chord’s a wound, A hymn for the lost, a midnight tune. The fire burns red, the silence spoke, Through the ghost of strings made of smoke.

Strings made of smoke, carry my sin, Cry through the dark where the fire’s been. No holy hymn, no preacher spoke, Just my soul on strings made of smoke.

Strings made of smoke, carry my sin, Cry through the dark where the fire’s been. No holy hymn, no preacher spoke, Just my soul on strings made of smoke.

Find this song on YouTube