The God Of Loss

(альбом: Birds Say - 2015)

My father was a carpenter
My mother, she died young
I'm the eldest of my brothers
You're the trouble in my blood
Trouble in my blood

I swore that I'd stay humble
Like my father was before
He built the home I live in
Of sand and mud and smoke
Sand and mud and smoke

Yes, we will leave here without a trace
Take a new name and an old shape
I'll be no outlaw, no renegade
Just your faithful God of loss

So meet me by the river
On a boat-shaped piece of earth
We press our bones together
And the spider does its work
With flakes of garlic
And petals from a rose
If it's small enough to carry
You and I can call it home
You and I can call it home

Yes, we will leave here without a trace
Take a new name and an old shape
I'll be no outlaw, no renegade
Just your faithful God of loss