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Stand here with the mountain in background |
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The copper mine up the hill from the town |
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Sits asleep like a retiree |
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Once used and now no use for |
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People used to work here |
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And mined their lives from this ground |
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Crushed them in these machines |
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And forged them in the future |
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We just take pictures |
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Of hearts that stopped beating |
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Chorus: |
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Sometimes you're a tourist with a camera |
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Stealing souls for scrapbooks |
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Sometimes you've got a life back home |
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Sometimes you're really alone, you're really alone |
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Sometimes you're really alone |
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Sometimes you're really alone, you're really alone |
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Sometimes you're really alone |
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We go home, after fishin' all day |
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And get our hands dirty |
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Getting the catch clean |
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And Mike is in the kitchen |
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He's heating up the fry pan |
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And we're in the front yard |
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We're watching the sun fall |
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People used to live here |
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And lived their lives on this ground |
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Raised them in these fields |
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And lost them in the future |
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And we just take pictures |
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Of hearts that stopped beating |
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Chorus |
