Painting In Ashes

If he went down to Georgia, must have come from Tennessee

Played on my heart there for a little while, put his hand up on my knee

I tried to abide him, but it only did me wrong

We only had so much to talk about before his eyes lighted on my songs

Quickly, so quickly back and forth I go

From bathing in gold summer sundown to his hands hard and cold

Taking and breaking grip, jaws and chain

I long to feel a kiss without a bite and the wind without the rain

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And now I’m painting in his ashes and singing in his memory

In the lamplight of a new home, where his steps are surely leading

My faith ain’t in my country, we’ll run her into the ground

My joy ain’t in the music, you know your ears grow tired of the sound

But better and better, truer than true

Daylight is coming for me and you

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