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He says it goes with the land and we can do nothing more |
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And no one can see what is wrong and is right |
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It goes with the land and it's broken and sore |
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And it bleeds from inside and is tired of this long endless fight |
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But they never will learn |
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It never will break up and burn |
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It's holding it close until we make our return |
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And it flows in the burns they're diluted and stale |
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They fall weary down hillsides and cry for relief |
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It flows in the burns and they're cloudy and pale |
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And the once foaming waters run tepid in sheer disbelief |
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But they never will learn |
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It never will break up and burn |
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It's holding it close until we make our return |
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It could have been healthy and strong |
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It could have been laughter and light |
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But the hope of a people holds on |
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Shining and bright |
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And it blows with the wind and it hangs in the breeze |
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And it cuts through the trees like the slash of a blade |
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It blows with the wind you can smell the disease |
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And it rolls across mountains destroying the patterns we've made |
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But they never will learn |
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It never will break up and burn |
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It's holding it close until we make our return |
