Lyrics
Old places fade hard.
No matter how long you row upstream,
the water still makes waves
that carry the rest of us away.
You are what you weep,
from your head down to the sleet.
Fell, tripped up the stairs to a place
void in all hints of home.
Watch with your heart,
run with your gut.
Careful not to lose
the fragile beauties of motivation.
A whir of warning winds signal me
back to birth.
Old places fade hard.
No matter how long you row upstream,
the water still makes waves
that carry the rest of us away.
Watch with your heart,
run with your gut.
Watch with your heart,
run with your gut.
Our fight keeps using a voice
that needs rekindling.
I promised wet weather to myself
from the moment I set foot into my own autopsy.
Past all the shimmer,
beyond the urine-stench
left by conglomerates of
those without a set of eyes
to make contact with.
Watch with your heart,
run with your gut.
Watch with your heart,
run with your gut.
Primate winds blow me back to old bloodstreams.
ADAM MARC MCGRATH, CALEB MARK SCOFIELD, JOHN ROBERT CONNERS, STEPHEN BRODSKY
BMG Rights Management