Two sets of footsteps wandering
No place to go, nowhere to live
Burning cigarettes on buried hymns
From a torn up bible full of homemade sins
An old man's shovel in a young man's hands
Hard night's ground on no man's land
A long dead dream in new life's hands
And golden hopes for those who are left
If you keep your eyes low
If you keep your eyes low
If you keep your eyes low
If you keep your eyes
A little girl's shoe got stuck in the mud
Behind a two wheeled cart carrying too much
Being pushed along by a man with a crutch
Who left a shovel in the dirt of a shallow grave
The little girl walked home slow and soft
The man walked with her but his weight was off
He shuffled like a tired old man who was lost
In a world without someone he had left in pain
Petticoat embroidered with a family crest
Left behind by a fleeting breast
Touch ground and drink of the fleeing breath
Dishonor is a terrible thing to address
Heavy footsteps bearing too much weight
Six feet deep for the fortunate grave
Family history and fortune laid
Below two mother's future tears and escape
To the soil
To the dirt
To the soil
To the dirt
To the soil
To the dirt
To the soil
To the dirt
You just might hear a story told
Long ago
So long ago
You just might hear a story told
Long ago
So long ago