Funeral For A Friend – The Great Wide Open Lyric

aus dem Album Tales Dont Tell Themselves

Spitting from the bridges
Like a bird perched on a branch
I'm wilting like a tree
That will never let me breathe

Soul soldier with your gun held high
Where does the crow fly
Soul soldier with your gun held high
Will you follow it home

For the road that we walk has more miles left to talk
Stories on and on we go
Into the great wide open

No it came never back to break me
The way it broke it down
Spitting from the bridges
While the tree gives a soft sight to the ground

Soul sailor with your flag held high
Where does the crow fly
Soul sailor with your flag held high
Will you follow it home

For the road that we walk has more miles left to talk
Stories on and on we go
Into the great wide open
For the road that we walk has more miles left to talk
Stories on and on we go
Into the great wide open
Into the great wide open

The rush, of the flood
Sends the blood
To my head
The rush, of the flood
Sends the blood
To my head

Soul soldier with your gun held high
Where does the crow fly
Soul soldier with your gun held high
Will you follow it home

The rush, of the flood
Sends the blood
To my head
The rush, of the flood
Sends the blood
To my head

Climb out, climb out
Climb out, climb out
Climb out, climb out
Over me

Climb out, climb out
Climb out, climb out
Climb out, climb out
Over me

Into the great wide open