Hell on the Throat

A line of strands to mark the trail

No one said it would be easy

I must admit I thought the risk

Was better waged in younger seasons

And all these years in the cold play hell on the throat

'Till everything I say burns like cinders

Well, it's hard to belong to a girl or a song

In the crease of a strangling winter

It's strange to be lost, stranger still to belong

On the strings of a twisting line

Along the way the turns are sharp

No one said it would be easy

I must admit, I thought the trip

Was better made in younger seasons

But all these years in pursuit made a man of a fool

'Til every word I say is unwavered

Well, it's hard to belong to a girl or a song

In the case of a selfish believer

It's strange to be lost, stranger still to belong

On the strings of a twisting line

Well it's hard to belong to a girl or a song

In the case of a selfish believer

It's strange to be lost, stranger still to belong

On the strings of a twisting line

And when the path I have made from the grass to the grave

I will love you still

And when the sand turns to glass and all that's left is the past

I will love you still