How do I wake my spirit cold? We always say when our history's told If only we knew the things we know There's a question ages old
Let me down easy, let me down slow If all good things ever come and go Let me back down in a place I know Hold the nail for the hammer stroke
Oh this my trash, this my tome Oh this my blood, this my bone
How do I learn my dreams to mold, To lay them bare in the morning cold? If they’re still out there then the chasm grows For all you know, for all you’ve known
Let me down easy, let me down slow If all good things ever come and go Let me back down in a place I know Hold that nail for the hammer stroke
Oh this my weapon, this my loam Oh this my blood, this my bone
How do I wake my spirit cold? Most people die but others just go She’s still out there and the chasm grows Steady are the feet in the morning glow
Oh this my trash, this my tome Oh this my weapon, this my loam Oh this my blood, this my bone Oh this my mountain, this is my home
How do I wake my spirit cold? There's a question ages old