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Miller Bill Raven In The Snow Pile Of Stones Garbage fires, worn out tires Dull jackknives, broken lives Starts and stops, at old pawn shops Boys first fish, drunkards wish Thoughts of war, behind a motel door Strangers touch, on a broken crutch Old man sing under an eagles wing Cigarette spark, stray dog bark... As long as the grasses grow And the four winds blow I feel your prayers from home In this Pile of Stones Old bike frames, the candles flame High school dances, never had a chance Fly off in a rage, like a bird in a cage Baptized in the water, death of my father Sun goes down, on this part of town Boxers fist, junkies wrist Deserted tracks, I ain't goin back Buffalo bones, old grave stones As long as the grasses grow, And the four winds blow I feel your prayers from home In this Pile of Stones, stones, stones... |
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