Print

I lay awake for a nightDrenched in anguish and bright lightI dreamt about an ancient houseAnd a slow Southern homeI was there, and so were youNot a word was spoke, nothing newIt was old, all was knownLike a sheep to the foldA blind man sang, bells of joyI was a stranger, but still a boyMy parents dead, the vines had grownThrough my slow Southern homeIn those eyes, I had no nameThey had seen fear, and all was vainBells of joy he did singHis noise did ring and ring and ringAnd everyone must come backThe flames have risen, the plumes were blackAnd if you're welcomed home by friendsIt won't ever be the same again From Letras Mania