Who'd of ever thought to
|
call that coal?
|
If my hands were warm then I might
|
I don't know
|
I keep panning
|
and in my reach it
|
Hangs on
|
Water falls down
|
There's no gold in this barren town
|
|
"Used to be a man could make his way
|
with a barrel full of this black coal"
|
half certain you'd say
|
but in my reach it
|
Hangs on
|
Water falls down
|
There's no gold in this barren town.
|
|
Look at every angle
|
and draw a square
|
find some nut you can instead untighten
|
Watch me in the corner
|
with a pair
|
under certain pressure
|
ace, a diamond
|
So run your fingers down my back
|
you'd make such a cool distraction
|
cause in my reach it
|
Hangs on
|
yeah, the walls down
|
but there's no gold
|
there's a line drawn and crossed
|
by the banks.
|
By the way
|
water falls down
|
there's no gold in this barren town.
|
|
-----------------
|
Coal
|
| Michael Penn |
