When the rains fall, man they fall hard. Seems they might wash us away

In Georgia, the Earth feels so thin. It feels like the trees may fall down.

But I hold on to you. I hold you

Glory, make your own bed, and let me lie down on my own.

Fire, burn down my back, and take my possessions, too.

Cause I hold on to you. I hold you

Sorry, I’m not all those things, but I’m doing the best I can.

So, Don’t let go of me. Don’t let go of me.