I run a trail of fire through the meadow paths
Guided by the river banks and trees from which they'll have me hung
Keep running away from the fire
Keep running away from the light 'til it's gone
Are all our summers at one with the ground?
And everything I loved you for, a trail of fire from the door
That leads me to a hiding place
Locking me inside
And I'll hold this blade of grass, and I'll hold 'til eventide
The dark that shrouds your loving neighbor, he's the one who lit the paper
While the reason's unexpressed and the sources undetermined
The innocent are voiceless, the voiceless are innocent
Shit, I got the little match, just dig a hole and throw me in
Say a prayer to my loving saviour
He's the one who lit the paper
Say a prayer to my loving saviour
He's the one who lit the paper
From them I strip the title, extinguished and misused
And all our engraved memories of unsuccessful remedies
I'm sick of papering the cracks, and extinguishing the fire tracks
Though flawed by design, I am torn from the strife
That did pile at the door but is feared no more
Though I once wedded her and her want was to play
As another's arms held took her wanting away
Questions, on top of questions
Don't think that answers are even here
It is too late for me
It is too late for me
Unsung untied unalive
Unsung untied unalive
Unsung untied unalive
Unsung untied unalive
