Текст песни Foot Of The Manger

Awake through the night, and this flood water 'round her Reminds her of the time and low country boys And their bottles without her, though she's on their minds Hands in black mud, at the foot of the manger She'll always be young and free to be wrong A black lamb licks the dirt off her feet with it's tongue We are blessed, aren't we? In the shade of these large auburn leaves Unexpectedly we arrive where we're all meant to be Awake through the night, and she prays in the morning For distance from harm and low country boys With their wealth of protection and mean battle-arms Hands in black mud, as she sits by the manger And closes her eyes, the wind blows outside A black car pulls the gravel and wants her to ride So who will she love, with her head lowed like ashes? The sky lost tonight, the wind blows outside A glass jar in the window, her shape blocks the candlelight