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Omega
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u2 indierock folk rock john prine lyle lovett gram parsons townes van zant
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"Just a pile of dirt and memories". This line, gently lifted from Jeromy's as-yet-to-be-recorded autobiographical song "The Mississippi", deftly depicts his childhood home - a trailer park in Ames, IA - demolished years ago to pave way for new condominiums. Only fond memories fill the otherwise dreary surroundings of his childhood: feral cats, violent neighbors and a makeshift junkyard the kids used as a playground. Too young to understand poverty, but old enough to understand love, Jeromy would find safety and solace in the arms of his parents, Mark and Kathy Darling. Fast forward some 25 years and things are much different: he's celebrating over 10 years of marriage to his high school sweetheart Gretchen and they're relishing the wonderful little gifts that their sons Wyatt (born Oct. '09) and Wilder ('12) continue to pour into their lives. After witnessing his younger sister overcome a brutal illness that nearly took her life on 3 occasions between 2003 and 2009, Jeromy has a new lease on life, a stronger resolve and renewed faith. "I was made for Jesus and Rock 'n Roll." All music is licensed under a . PLEASE SHARE!
Song Info
Author
Jeromy Darling
Uploaded
February 15, 2013
Track Files
MP3
MP3 11.3 MB 320 kbps 4:55
Lyrics
I was hoping I would find you Is this what you had in mind? Cause a road like this takes years to travel And we don’t have much time Some will die of restless wanting Some will waste away within And someone will scatter their ashes cause that’s all that’s left of them Some will die for lack of hunger Some will never feed again And no one will ever know their number or ever call their name So why do we toil? For silver cups and best of luck and rights of passage for kin And what do we spoil? If all the love spend is binded by our sin and everyone will end where they begin Some will drown under a fortune Some will rot under a bridge And someone will bury the evidence to hide the things they did Some will end it with a needle Some will end it in their sleep And no one will ever remember the promises they keep So why do we toil? For little pearls and baby girls and all the lust that burns within And what do we spoil? If all the love spend is binded by our sin and everyone will end where they begin Some will die for their resistance Some will burn up at the stake And someone will clean their bodies and wake them up again So why do I toil? For ancient words that sing the verse of how the blood and water flow And what do I spoil? If all that I’ve been told is a lie that I’ve been sold But I don’t wanna pay for what I did
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