Текст песни Gospel of a Certain Kind - H.C. McEntire

Freely
You come to me kneeling
Pleading
Keep driving me mad

Came to see the dripping moss
Stayed to feel like some part of
Left to know how real it was

Heal me
Words brave and binding
Steeping
Tea leaves before bed

Fertile as a Delta pile
Final as a finish line
Gospel of a certain kind

Nearly
Gave into the feeling
Seedlings
To scatter and spread

Open-ended afternoons
Rearrange the living room
A vice, a wife, alone, you choosе