A line of strands to mark the trail,

No one said it would be easy. I must admit I'd thought the risk was better waged in younger seasons, all these years in the cold play hell on the throat

Until everything I say burns like cinders,

Well it's hard to belong to a girl or a song

And the crease of a strangling winter It's strange to be lost, stranger still to belong

On the strings of a twisting lie.

Along the way the turns are sharp,

No one said they would be easy,

I must admit I thought the trip was better made in younger seasons.

But all these years in the pursuit made a man of a fool,

Till every word I say is unwavered. Well it's hard to belong to a girl or a psalm

In the case of a selfish believer,

It's strange to be lost, stranger still to belong

On the strings in a twisting line [x2] And when the path I have made

From the grass to the grave,

I will love you still.

And when the sand turns to glass

And all that's left is the past

And I will love you still.