A tale of stolen lands and ancestors
Never Grows Old
I’m riding through the sacred lands
Where they’ll take you down and they’ll break your hands
Riding in the shotgun fire
Where the trees are scorched by the funeral pyre
Tell me now, do you know what’s on the inside?
Beyond the world, we can run but we cannot hide
Tell me now, can you feel the flames drawing your breath
from your very bones with a spirit that never grows old, never grows old?
I’m blowing ash to the wind
Where they’ll cut you down and they’ll bury your sins
Screaming for the life and times
Of a medicine man with his tainted signs
Kicking up the dust again
When they shake you down and say “Amen!”
Listen to the spirits cry as they pick it up with their eagle eyes
Tell me now, do you know what’s on the inside?
Beyond the world, we can run but we cannot hide
Tell me now, can you feel the flames drawing your breath
from your very bones with a spirit that never grows old, never grows old?
I’m blowing ash to the wind
I’m riding through the sacred lands
Kicking up the dust again
Shake me down and say “Amen!”
Shake me down and say “Amen!”
Shake me down, Shake me down
The spirit never grows old
Never grows old, never grows old
Something of a 70s southern rocker heading from near sweet home Alabama all the way back to early 90s Madchester by way of Willowdale
