A line of strands to mark the trail, No one said it would be easy.
I must admit I'd thought the risk was better waged in younger seasons, all these years in the cold play hell on the throat Until everything I say burns like cinders, Well it's hard to belong to a girl or a song And the crease of a strangling winter
It's strange to be lost, stranger still to belong On the strings of a twisting lie. Along the way the turns are sharp, No one said they would be easy, I must admit I thought the trip was better made in younger seasons. But all these years in the pursuit made a man of a fool, Till every word I say is unwavered.
Well it's hard to belong to a girl or a psalm In the case of a selfish believer, It's strange to be lost, stranger still to belong On the strings in a twisting line [x2]
And when the path I have made From the grass to the grave, I will love you still. And when the sand turns to glass And all that's left is the past And I will love you still.