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Songs (25)
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lifted his head and rose from walking
renewed sense purpose filled out
determination earned share of scars
eyes witnessed loss everything
hawk soft rustle of tufts grass
spent wrestling with his demons
had been born habit necessity
vast plains kissed sun hung low
I only hit the curb because you
if you Had a wild hair of your own
Living in your big glass house with a view
You thought I'd take the blame for
sent Can't wash our hands of this
innocent After all the sleep you
Already lost the game that you've been
earth with each deliberate stride
faithful service sank slightly
trudged along the dusty path
brown leather boots scuffed from head
mingled with the scent of old wood
ghosts of choices made long ago
casting was still distant cry
old church on the distant hilltop
particular morning found pilgrimage
stirred restlessly within dull the pain
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