Lyrics to Greenwood
I took a picture but I could barely keep the button down.
You wore the same shirt, the same green cloak,
Until this elevator hit the ground
And I came home, and you were waking up.
The fire's burning now, it's too late to get out.
The flames lick at our faces as the ceilings hit the ground.
But this rain on our hands will smother, act like sand,
And hold this weight together at the center of this whole post.
From Lincoln to Greenwood,
Just like you said you would,
You packed up, moved your whole life.
So many days we spend
Running from arguments.
But you left everything behind.
The fire's dying out.
But now the water floods where this building once was,
We'll sink or swim forever it's still better than burning up,
But not as good as safe, that thing we'll never be,
But really is anyone ever sheltered in this old house?
From Lincoln to Greenwood,
Just like you said you would,
You packed up, moved your whole life.
So many ways to go, so many places home.
She left everything behind.
Are we waiting for the re-arrival of something and not someone?
Something better than something that your hands reach for and don't report.
You wore the same shirt, the same green cloak,
Until this elevator hit the ground
And I came home, and you were waking up.
The fire's burning now, it's too late to get out.
The flames lick at our faces as the ceilings hit the ground.
But this rain on our hands will smother, act like sand,
And hold this weight together at the center of this whole post.
From Lincoln to Greenwood,
Just like you said you would,
You packed up, moved your whole life.
So many days we spend
Running from arguments.
But you left everything behind.
The fire's dying out.
But now the water floods where this building once was,
We'll sink or swim forever it's still better than burning up,
But not as good as safe, that thing we'll never be,
But really is anyone ever sheltered in this old house?
From Lincoln to Greenwood,
Just like you said you would,
You packed up, moved your whole life.
So many ways to go, so many places home.
She left everything behind.
Are we waiting for the re-arrival of something and not someone?
Something better than something that your hands reach for and don't report.
Songwriters:
Publisher:
Powered by LyricFind
Publisher:
Powered by LyricFind