|
Scratched in stone |
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For anyone to read |
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Everything belongs |
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And then it leaves |
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A silence that ain't empty |
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A blindness that ain't dark |
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We've been headed south |
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From the very start |
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And the road's a shimmer |
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On a sagebrush sea |
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Cut between the highlands |
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And the deadwood trees |
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And though we started early |
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We got here real late |
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And we ain't got nothin' left to hate |
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Across the stones |
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Above the flats |
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Them shadows steal deep into our past |
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And we shake the dead |
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But some still breathe |
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Yeah we shake the dead |
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And some still dream |
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Smoke from burning tires |
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Above the squatters camp |
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He met us at the road |
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And led us with his lamp |
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The night gone breathless |
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The chill gone pure |
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You know we think too much |
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Until we think no more |
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Rock-a-my-soul-in-the-bosom-of-Abraham |
