| Standing on this holy ground
|
| Of fallen leaves and crooked limbs
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| Looking back I see you now
|
| Climbing high no mind the risk
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| The subtle lines beside your lips
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| Like souvenirs of years of laughter
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| And dangling cross across your wrist
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| Got you through more than you asked for
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| They say it’s a ring that wraps around
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| With no end and no beginning
|
| Like the well spring underground
|
| The way you sleep, believe through doubt
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| It’s the way we stay here living
|
| As our names fade from this town
|
| It’s the way you keep on giving me your fire to burn on
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| Feels like I can’t come home
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| The more I’m gone the more things change
|
| The man I am ain’t what they know no more
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| And under all these coats of paint
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| I know there’s lines I know there’s cracks
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| I know there’s times we couldn’t see
|
| The leaks and damage in the rafters over years gone past
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| But still feels safe up in those trees
|
| They say it’s a ring that wraps around
|
| With no end and no beginning
|
| Like the well spring underground
|
| The way you sleep, believe through doubt
|
| It’s the way we stay here living
|
| As our names fade from this town
|
| It’s the way you keep on giving me your fire to burn on
|
| They say it’s a ring that wraps around
|
| With no end and no beginning
|
| Like the well spring underground
|
| The way you sleep, believe through doubt
|
| It’s the way we stay here living
|
| As our names fade from this town
|
| It’s the way you keep on giving me your fire to burn on |