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I've been walking the dirt floor |
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My eyes are open, |
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LordWhere did |
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You go?Have we just left |
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You bored? |
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On down this unholy well |
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We rolled |
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Stirring barrels |
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In hell to be warm |
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It's further back down |
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Than the high ground |
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It ain't milk and honey |
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We're moving 'round |
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Only one thing is certain |
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And that's everybody |
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Everybody's hurting |
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Now we come from the country |
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Where the rain follows plow |
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And the evenings are cold enough |
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To pluck your feathers out |
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We hear your engines |
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Roaring deep and loud |
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As we work the mules |
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On this bludgeoned ground |
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We've hunted these hills dry |
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We've long outlasted the winter |
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And our last wood pile |
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Only one thing's certain |
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And that's everybody |
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Everybody's hurting |
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Through rolling acres |
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Of bone yards we drift |
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Our spirit's been broken |
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It's been splintered to bits |
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Faith is believing |
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What you see ain't so |
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But my sweetheart |
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We've got to learn |
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To live with these ghosts |
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They can't leave, we can't go |
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Now we'd sell this valley if we could |
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Go north where the sun sets |
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Dripping buckets of gold |
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Through snow-topped thunderheads |
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And rows of moving clouds |
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Coming down this mountain |
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How sweet salvation sounds |
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With our hands high |
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Like lowly pilgrims |
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As the old men dissolute |
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The young ones in |
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Already know what |
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We're just learning |
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That's everybody |
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Everybody's hurting |
