This story begins like any other I suppose
with a man in black and busted nose
making his escape
you see he’d lost everything he had to loose
except the clothes on his back and his worn out shoes
but none of that matters now

When the squatters came and torched his house
got to know his wife and kept her blouse
something vital snapped
some say it was a nerve deep in his brain
or a chunk of his heart due to the pain
but I guess we’ll never know

So when is plans for revenge wound him up behind bars
a few nights in he jumped the guards
and that’s where we find him now

And so I roam
and all I’ve known are
tattered footprints and a foreign pillow
and I don’t care
because my dear
is still a whisper on the wind
and my heart is too hard to simple break of bend
because they’re not
taking me alive

He ran all night and was discovered one town over by a kindly young girl named Lola Larae
she took him in, dressed his wounds, watered the soup to make it go around and waited until he came to
as he did, she began to ask “where are you headed”, “where are you from”, “what’s your name”
but his answer was always the same
“it doesn’t matter to me, why would it matter to you, thanks for your kindness but I’ll be gone in the morning”
and he rolled over, leaving Lola to return to her room
just as she was drifting off to sleep, she heard a faint melody through the walls
she slipped out into the hall and heard the man was singing

cause I don’t need a soul
if there’s nothing left to live for
I’ll watch my life wash away
‘cause baby, all I need is you

With a squeak of the floor boards, Lola was discovered
entranced by the man’s desperate exchange with the darkness
she said “your song reminds me of one my mother use to sing us”
and automatically dropping her gaze to the ground, she began

I sat down by the old oak tree
and heard we’re more than roots and branches and leaves
and so should sing you and me
we’re more than skin, and hair and bones and teeth
we’re simple like a sword and a sheath
and who we are is buried deep underneath

A thick awkward silence fell on the scene
which was eventually alleviated by the drag of Lola’s night gown against the wood floor
coming morning the man was true to his word and gone with the rising sun
grateful for the girl’s kindness but unable to be quenched

And so I roam
and all I’ve known are
tattered footprints and a foreign pillow
and I don’t care
because my dear
is still a whisper on the wind
and my heart is too hard to simple break of bend
because they’re not
taking me alive

The weeks became a blur along the side of the road
sleep, and sustenance were overtaken by his flames of rage
after countless threats and kicked down doors, the man caught wind of a murderous group roaming his country side
still determined, he set his sights on their leader
who lived in a house too big to have been earned honestly

Slipping in through the back window in the darkness
having decided revenge was wasted with a warning
he ran through the following memorized moments
he slipped out into the hall and saw a slowly rocking silhouette
singing a song all too familiar

I sat down by the old oak tree
and heard we’re more than roots and branches and leaves
and so should sing you and me
we’re more than skin, and hair and bones and teeth
we’re simple like a sword and a sheath
and who we are is buried deep underneath

‘Cause I won’t have a soul
if I take another man’s world
I’ve watched my life waste for too long

I want a chance to breathe
without the choking vale I see
without these nagging thoughts unsure
and all these questions blame won’t cure
and if I hold you to my view, would you help me say that
I’m not taking a life