The Lower Road Lyrics
| Song | The Lower Road |
| Artist | Thea Gilmore |
| Album | Recorded Delivery |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Cut me down | |
| Bury this rosary | |
| Somewhere out of town | |
| Somewhere out by the sea | |
| And take this ring | |
| Give it to Emily | |
| Tell her I'm peaceful now | |
| Tell her I've been released | |
| I will be rolling on | |
| I will be rolling on | |
| Well I know that drill | |
| I know it all too well | |
| It starts like a lonely voice | |
| And shifts to a tolling bell | |
| Like rain on the dusty ground | |
| Small bones in the driest well | |
| The spark breeds a fiery tongue | |
| And the tongues kiss the cheek of Hell | |
| And I will be rolling on | |
| I will be rolling on | |
| I have had my part to play | |
| Now I am going home | |
| There's no telling which way, boys | |
| This thing is going to take hold | |
| From the fruit on a poplar tree | |
| To the bruise round a band of gold | |
| From the blood in a far country | |
| To the war of just growing old | |
| We travel a lower road | |
| And it's lonely and it is cold | |
| But we will be rolling on | |
| We will be rolling on | |
| We've had our part to play | |
| Now we are going home | |
| We will keep rolling on | |
| We will keep rolling on | |
| ‘Cause for every midnight hour | |
| There's always a rising sun |
| Cut me down | |
| Bury this rosary | |
| Somewhere out of town | |
| Somewhere out by the sea | |
| And take this ring | |
| Give it to Emily | |
| Tell her I' m peaceful now | |
| Tell her I' ve been released | |
| I will be rolling on | |
| I will be rolling on | |
| Well I know that drill | |
| I know it all too well | |
| It starts like a lonely voice | |
| And shifts to a tolling bell | |
| Like rain on the dusty ground | |
| Small bones in the driest well | |
| The spark breeds a fiery tongue | |
| And the tongues kiss the cheek of Hell | |
| And I will be rolling on | |
| I will be rolling on | |
| I have had my part to play | |
| Now I am going home | |
| There' s no telling which way, boys | |
| This thing is going to take hold | |
| From the fruit on a poplar tree | |
| To the bruise round a band of gold | |
| From the blood in a far country | |
| To the war of just growing old | |
| We travel a lower road | |
| And it' s lonely and it is cold | |
| But we will be rolling on | |
| We will be rolling on | |
| We' ve had our part to play | |
| Now we are going home | |
| We will keep rolling on | |
| We will keep rolling on | |
| ' Cause for every midnight hour | |
| There' s always a rising sun |
| Cut me down | |
| Bury this rosary | |
| Somewhere out of town | |
| Somewhere out by the sea | |
| And take this ring | |
| Give it to Emily | |
| Tell her I' m peaceful now | |
| Tell her I' ve been released | |
| I will be rolling on | |
| I will be rolling on | |
| Well I know that drill | |
| I know it all too well | |
| It starts like a lonely voice | |
| And shifts to a tolling bell | |
| Like rain on the dusty ground | |
| Small bones in the driest well | |
| The spark breeds a fiery tongue | |
| And the tongues kiss the cheek of Hell | |
| And I will be rolling on | |
| I will be rolling on | |
| I have had my part to play | |
| Now I am going home | |
| There' s no telling which way, boys | |
| This thing is going to take hold | |
| From the fruit on a poplar tree | |
| To the bruise round a band of gold | |
| From the blood in a far country | |
| To the war of just growing old | |
| We travel a lower road | |
| And it' s lonely and it is cold | |
| But we will be rolling on | |
| We will be rolling on | |
| We' ve had our part to play | |
| Now we are going home | |
| We will keep rolling on | |
| We will keep rolling on | |
| ' Cause for every midnight hour | |
| There' s always a rising sun |
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