Back alleys full of rain
|
and everything shining
|
as holy as she can be
|
the trick¡¯s in the timing
|
|
Free as a morning bird,
|
fragile as china,
|
she¡¯s stuck in the weakest heart
|
of South Carolina
|
|
where all of the naked boys
|
lay down beside her,
|
sing her the saddest song
|
all caught in the briars
|
|
I never meant to fall
|
so hard in the doorway
|
and all the sinners here
|
have crosses for Sunday
|
|
Kissed at the county fair,
|
frisked in the city,
|
which proves as an answered prayer
|
but ain¡¯t it a pity
|
|
that all of the naked boys
|
that laid down beside her
|
sing her the saddest song
|
all caught in the briars
|
|
-----------------
|
Caught In The Briars
|
| Iron & Wine |
