The candles you leave
Will never grow into a tree
(Oh-oo)
The feelings
I tell you that girl's gonna make you cry
Oh-I tell
Come home
With me
Hide away
Beauty
I guess I'm on the road back
My woman done and left me lord
My woman done and
Seeing things
Bristly
I don’t believe
This imagery
Seeing things
Differently
I
I see
Young trees
Despite the weather
I know
When the clouds go
We'll see
Are you truly so ashamed?
What’s wrong with just yourself?
Oh it
I don't deny-a what I'm seeing
You vilified all our kind
You
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