His Hands Matched His Tongue - The Dear Hunter

A long walk home, riddled with regret

Uncommonly comfortable, but still I believe

That in time I think I’ll see just what’s been weighing down on me

An unearthly void collapsed, exposing what was trapped

To release this serendipitous design

The smell of smoke, the evening sky was bruised

Belated conversations saturate anticipation for the answers that simply won’t

come

But not I, I won’t ask

Forget my place amongst the grass

The leaves and the trees remember me

And in my naïveté it might be seen

The pail has leaks and even if

You put all your water into it

You end up with nothing left to drink

The well has gone dry and I with it

Oh, someday she’ll be gone (x4)

(We'll still have a song to sing)

Sing softly, bring me to the lake

Sing softly, sing me to the lake