Pilgrims

There's blood on the streets

And there's blood in my bed

There's blood in the tear ducts

That won't bleed out of my head

There's a time I keep thinking of

But I don't remember when

And you keep on singing our old country song

And it sounds real pretty but you're singing it wrong

There's a time I keep thinking of

When I used to belong

Somebody fishing on a motor cross track

Somebody feeding on what I can't take back

Somebody fishing on a motor cross track

Somebody feeding on what I can't take back

And you came out of the street

With your head buried into the darkness

Where you'd been from your feet up to your chin

And your eyes asking questions like

"Do I remember when?"

But all I thought of were the shadows

That were cast by the sun

How they'd always float beside me

When I thought you were the one

And how I could never ever lose them

Even if I tried to run

Somebody fishing on a motor cross track

Somebody feeding on what I can't take back

Somebody fishing on a motor cross track

Somebody feeding on what I can't take back