Play again, oh
Tap on the board
I could use a song here, now.
Word unheard, none ever burned
A room to set me in.
Sing again, oh
Throw another tale
Walking out across our ground
It’s cold behind this cabin door
That high tone light it right.
Stomp down, oh
Show them your hands.
Hit ’em with that old, steel gun.
I believe that song will breathe
Underneath this cabin floor.
Sweet lullaby,
Somewhere ago
Daughter, the glory of the world.
A single line of a tangled weave
From me to her to you.
Feel it, there,
In every other hand
Every other john pole child.
You know… you drew a tight bow string
and shot that arrow gone.
All Things Chris Whitley 