Letras
Every ending that you ever rushed,
Stings like cinder, slow as rust
Shotgun slug found in the middle of
A field of red bags, ripe with vidalias
Time ain't always kind
To the shakin' child
To the slippin' mind
Every heart that you ever loved
Ragged wrung and divvied up
Fallow tracts to a scythe, a dove
A cellar stocked with bushels of
Time ain't always kind
To the shakin' child
To the slippin' mind
Hallelujah, turpentine!
We can tend the land for a little while
Bones of those beneath the boundary lines—
East in sets first, then clockwise, clockwise
Every acre that you ever owned
Hissed and split like a radiator hose
I seen your kinfolk walkin' the meadows—
Burrs and burns, but not alone
Time ain't always kind
To the shakin' child
To the slippin' mind
Hallelujah, turpentine!
We can tend the land for a little while
Bones of those beneath the boundary lines—
East in sets first, then clockwise, clockwise