"This mountain is burning like the one in my chest,
Yeah, we got memories for embers,
That done smoked up all the rest,
Cause the heart is the landscape of violence and joy,
So we learn to rebuild, what we have to destroy,
The first drops of summer on the thirsty rap sage,
Like dirty kisses skyward, the musicians ways
So on the outskirts of town,
Yeah, we live by the sun,
Through the dust and the rain clouds,
I, will be done, I, will be done,
And I will be nothing, but honest with you,
Cause I've got nothing, but my word,
In the crease of light in the morning my dear, may our music, may our music, be heard so we walk into the field at night with the lighting all around take out our guitars, girl, may we never put them down play for me your favorite song, pull me up into your sky where the thunder speaks in crazy tongues and the gods do not decide they say... 'cause on the outskirts of town, yeah we live by the sun through the dust and the rain clouds I will be done I will be done and I will be nothing but honest with you 'cause I've got nothing but my word and the crease of light in the morning my dear may our music may our music be heard
