Welcome home
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- if home it is and well you come -
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we've seen the smoke and smelled the fumes.
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You went for broke,
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then under over a couple bucks,
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threw down the yoke and put up your dukes.
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May a blow land
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where you'll feel it.
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May your fire spread
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through the coal-sewn fields.
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Fare thee well,
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in a welfare line or thy father's will.
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Don't kill us and we'll go your bail.
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You hit and held
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and folded, "enthralled isn't thrilled,"
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you said, "grow up," and away you sailed.
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May the blow land
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where he'll see it.
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May your fear spread
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through the tear-stained shores.
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Saying, "I never knew you."
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Welcome home
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- if home it is and well you come -
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'cause fear and fire can't consume
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condemn, condone,
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or dismiss what we haven't done,
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and he's out of salt.
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Go dress our wounds.
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Lay a flare down
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by your dull pain.
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May he show up
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or may you move on.
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He will show up
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or you will move on.
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Welcome Home
|
| Punch Brothers |
