Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Cris Jacobs
Acoustic Guitar
Jerry Douglas
Guitar
Travis Book
Background Vocals
Andy Hall
Dobro
Andy Falco
Electric Guitar
Jeremy Garrett
Fiddle
Chris Pandolfi
Banjo
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Cris Jacobs
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jerry Douglas
Producer
Lyrics
Wild roses and dirt, thorns ripped a tear upon your shirt
And bled like a thirst that never passed
No headlights or witnesses
Just the eerie vibrations of god
Core shaking like a lightning rod
Oh did we feel the violence of all of that truth
Down in the brambles and the tangled roots
What whispered that sound, black magic or the baying bloodhounds
Up from the ground, to the pistil, and stern
Pried open and flowered and turned all your burning into love
All of the power you dreamed of
Let it pour out from the sources, with the force of seven horses
All the soul without remorses
In the course of all that's left to come
Does it feel like we were born
Just to cut our fingers on the thorn, and know love
Blood stains and wine, broke bottles and valentines
When you can't tell a crime scene from a honeymoon suite
Is that the love that we're reaching for
Or is it something made to last
To tie a tether when the winds blow fast
Is it a chemical chance or a past life's plan
A totem for the ages or a one night stand
Does it feel like we were born
Just to cut our fingers on the thorn, and know love, holy love
So pure fragile and sharp to the touch as glass
How glorious and tragic that it won't last
When all of these fleeting hours are over
Well I like to believe it won't hurt
When these days are done
Won't you lay me among the wild roses and dirt
Wild roses and dirt, bones brittle of bodies of work
Left on the scorched earth like orphans unclaimed
Lost angels without a name
Writer(s): Cris Jacobs
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