Songtext von Understated Reverence

In the understated reverence Of the eight-ball now Maybe it's the weather Or the roads we're crossing somehow Listen to bukka white Playing his twelve-string guitar In the understated reverence Where we find out who we really are In the understated reverence We're all safe in your room The fragileness of your presence That never came too soon And the white river keeps flowing Way out with the sheets In the understated reverence Is where the two sides can meet You can blame it all on tomorrow And let your time slip away Blame it all on your brothers But then get out of the way He'll come down on you like thunder Make you dig your own grave The understated reverence Just another name for judgement day