stand here with the mountain in background
|
the copper mine up the hill from the town
|
sits asleep like a retiree
|
once used and now no use for
|
|
people used to work here
|
and mined their lives from this ground
|
crushed them in these machines
|
and forged them in the future
|
we just take pictures
|
of hearts that stopped beating
|
|
|
sometimes you're a tourist with a camera
|
stealing souls for scrapbooks
|
sometimes you've got a life back home
|
sometimes you're really alone, you're really alone
|
sometimes you're really alone
|
sometimes you're really alone, you're really alone
|
sometimes you're really alone
|
|
|
we go home, after fishin' all day
|
and get our hands dirty
|
getting the catch clean
|
and mike is in the kitchen
|
he's heating up the fry pan
|
and we're in the front yard
|
we're watching the sun fall
|
|
people used to live here
|
and lived their lives on this ground
|
raised them in these fields
|
and lost them in the future
|
and we just take pictures
|
of hearts that stopped beating
|
|
|
sometimes you're a tourist with a camera
|
stealing souls for scrapbooks
|
sometimes you've got a life back home
|
sometimes you're really alone, you're really alone
|
sometimes you're really alone
|
sometimes you're really alone, you're really alone
|
sometimes you're really alone
|
|
-----------------
|
Huston, We Have Uh Oh
|
| Minus The Bear |
