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Last night I dreamed that I was a child |
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out where the pines grow wild and tall |
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I was trying to make it home through the forest |
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before the darkness falls |
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I heard the wind rustling through the trees |
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and ghostly voices rose from the fields |
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I ran with my heart pounding down that broken path |
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With the devil snappin' at my heels |
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I broke through the trees, and there in the night |
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My father's house stood shining hard and bright |
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the branches and brambles |
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tore my clothes and scratched my arms |
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But I ran till I fell, shaking in his arms |
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I awoke and I imagined |
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the hard things that pulled us apart |
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Will never again, sir, |
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tear us from each other's hearts |
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I got dressed, and to that house |
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I did ride from out on the road, |
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I could see its windows shining in light |
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I walked up the steps and stood on the porch |
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a woman I didn't recognize |
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came and spoke to me through a chained door |
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I told her my story, and who I'd come for |
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She said "I'm sorry, son, |
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but no one by that name lives here anymore" |
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My father's house shines hard and bright |
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it stands like a beacon calling me in the night |
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Calling and calling, so cold and alone |
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Shining `cross this dark highway |
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where our sins lie unatoned |
