|
It's harder now, the work is done |
|
And we're nowhere now. |
|
Old bones are wearing you down |
|
Old dreams push you around. |
|
Maybe I am stubborn now, |
|
Maybe I can't see |
|
But Jesus don't talk to me, |
|
I never did leave! |
|
Leave! |
|
Do you need to keep pushing on, |
|
Cause this place, this place is like a funeral. |
|
I couldn't help thinking on the talk I heard on the radio |
|
If they gonna keep put down |
|
Someday, maybe you should let it go. |
|
I don't mind telling you so, if it is |
|
Something to hold on to. |
|
You follow the white dead trail, |
|
Found the hunter's trap, |
|
Made out steel and wire |
|
But he gripped them round. |
|
I run my hands across your jaws, your teeth, your tongue your brow |
|
The blood is spreading to your brain |
|
We've got to get it out somehow, somehow! |
|
Do you need to keep pushing on, |
|
Cause this place, this place is like a funeral. |
|
I couldn't help thinking on the talk I heard on the radio |
|
If they gonna keep put down |
|
Someday, maybe you should let it go. |
|
I don't mind telling you so, if it is |
|
Something to hold on to, |
|
Something to hold on to. |
|
A pink moonshine |
|
Lighting your shadow. |
|
A witness to what came before |
|
A witness to what came before! |
|
Do you need to keep pushing on, |
|
Cause this place, this place is like a funeral. |
|
I couldn't help thinking on the talk I heard on the radio |
|
If they gonna keep put down |
|
Someday, maybe you should let it go. |
|
I don't mind telling you so, if it is |
|
Something to hold on to, |
|
Something to hold on to. |
