Thea Gilmore
The Lower Road
Cut me down, bury this rosarySomewhere out of town, somewhere out by the seaAnd take this ring, and give it to EmilyTell her I’m peaceful now, Tell her I’ve been releasedI will be rolling on, I will be rolling onWell I know that drill, I know it all too wellIt starts like a lonely voice, and it shifts to a tolling bellLike rain on the dusty ground, small bones in the driest wellThe spark breeds a fiery tongue, and the tongues kiss the cheek of HellAnd I will be rolling on, I will be rolling onI’ve had my part to play, and now I’m going homeThere’s no telling which way, boys, this thing is going to take holdFrom the fruit on a poplar tree, to the bruise round a band of goldFrom the blood in a far country, to the war of just growing oldWe travel a lower road, and it’s lonely and it is coldBut we will be rolling on, we will be rolling onWe’ve had our part to play, now we are going homeWe will keep rolling on, we will keep rolling on‘Cos for every midnight hour, there’s always a rising sun
From Letras Mania