We were making our way through
Land of cold cut terrain
Felt alive, oh my days
Oh my days, felt alive
Lead the way riddled and reckless
Lead the way on river run roads
Still reeling, we tried
Deep breathing in
I was there to shake my leaves
There to test my liberties
Back wheel clinging close and still
Lost in the wasted dark
Oh my days, oh my days
Lost in the wasted dark
Time was all for the taking
Crowd was full and the lights were hung
We were slow on the talking
It was not our mother tongue
Buried your roots and
Marked the spot with a silver spoon
A grave amongst the grasses
And a sorry epitaph to your name
To your name, to your name
A sorry epitaph to your name
