With Stones in His Pockets - Ursula

A door stands open that you swear you closed
You walk out
In the distance, getting closer
A stranger's soul in a body you know
Too far gone
Don't look back, do not approach her
Look at the man
He was upright not five minutes ago
But now a crowd surrounds
He went down like a sack of potatoes
The soil's infused with a thousand lonely souls
You walk on
Brownfield land soaked in humanity
The shape of a woman fades into the trees
Don't follow
For she did not inhabit her eyes
She says let's get straight down to the dying
I never predicted the end of the world
Men put that in my mouth for me
I write for a future of people who hurt
That's a fate worse than dying to me
Nevermore will I sit and smoke in the cool light of the evening
Crash of thunder, going under
Flash of lightning, let's get dying
Welcome in those gathering clouds and let's get straight down to the lightning
Welcome in those gathering clouds and let's get straight down to the lightning

Written by:
Robert Tamplin

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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