When she was a little girl, stepdad hurt her so
I met her at
Inchoate, away from home
We drove up to Illinois
And ran through a glowing field of hope
It was a new world
I was caught up in what could grow
Our bones trembling
Our hearts at a race;
Worried that the light we'd seen, had already taken place
A vivid and bright night; And I was praying eagerly to sleep
Hiding away in my bunk, hoping that out there some part of me would keep
Always thought I knew the song;
I'd just memorized the words
But truth grew through like a bramble weed
Ripped up what I thought was me
I remember lying there, learning a joy that thrived in grief
Thinking about a garden I left
Where there was nothing hiding you from me
When I was a little boy, my head set tempest rage
My mom would comfort me- A spark lit in thick of hay
Told of a river stone -a quartz rock cut with my new name
A thought so troubling
A ringing I hear to this day
The little white stones
You tossed in the water of my mind
Made clear the water's edge
But left waves behind
Oh yeah!
All reflection
Taste on my tongue
Feels like...
Light echo
(Linger in my eye.)
We tried stolen fire
We tried form alone
Give us a white stone!
We tried etching names (with)
Coal, gold, skin and bone...
Give us a white stone!
I tried to find it in that field of corn--buried in her eyes
But all the names we called ourselves lost rarity with time
And they'll build over what was there
All I have only holds together for so long--and that thought almost killed me
But the lovely sound of what you wrote, that only you and I know
Holds me together
And though it all goes
Tell me again of the white stone