It's about a year in my life, and the life and death involved in it.
Lyrics
In mute reflection of the man that I'd become.
And the rough skid tracks that led to the backs of grapevines and holocausts.
Who is to blame for death and race - drawn across both time and space to bodies burned and buried at the bases of buildings.
We the people have cornered ourselves with guns and stock and we're here to trade or disobey and stop all the heathens.
--This guy is shaking,
It's beeen a hard seven days.
This bow is making all of us turn to waves
My story starts where the wood parts where a woman bears the load: the whole load of the underground raildroad.
She says "Let me be cremated. No. Let me be recreated and reincarnated as the boy who doesn't know who."
And back to me who keeps on coming back to you.
Hopefully just to find some peace or truth.
--This guy is motionless.
(She'll always be your save)
And everybody says she's changed.
We all turn back to waves
Backtracking to good guys and blue skies who esteem the genuine self of me.
This boat ride through high tide is a far stride through my life.
