Epitaph

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