Wild Heart - The Collection

Callous fingers from your strings

Trying to make the guitar sing

And once again release the joy it brings

But even with the old notes played

The strings are rusted and slightly frayed

So I can’t get it sounding quite the same

When you get caught in what they want

It’s hard to remember who you are

A wild heart kept in the dark

A tired hand that’s fumbling for the door

Kept the branches dry from rain

But you brought matches and propane

And now the air in here could light a flame

Why so set on being right

All your words braced for the fight

But there are so many ways to see the light

When you get caught in what they want

It’s hard to remember who you are

A wild heart kept in the dark

A tired hand that’s fumbling for the door

When you get caught in what they want

It’s hard to remember who you are

A wild heart that’s kept too long in the dark

A tired hand that’s fumbling for the door

(The door is not locked, open it up)

When you get caught in what they want

It’s hard to remember who you are

A wild heart left in the dark

But the light can no longer be ignored