A line of strands to mark the trail, 
No one said it would be easy.

I must admit I thought the risk was better waged in 
younger seasons, 
But all these years in the cold play hell on the throat 
Till everything I say burns like cinders, 
Why it's hard to belong to a girl or a song 
And the crease of a strangling winter

It's strange to be lost, stranger still to be lone 
In the strings of a twisting line.
Along the way the turns are sharp, 
No one said they would be easy, 
I must admit I thought the trip was better in younger 
seasons. 
But all these years in the pursuit made a man of a 
fool, 
Till every word I say is on waver.

Why it's hard to belong to a girl or a song 
In the case of a selfish believer, 
It's strange to be lost and stranger still to be lone 
In the strings in a twisting line (2x)

And when the path I have made 
From the grass to the grave, 
I will love you still. 
And when the sand turns to glass 
And all that's left is the past 
And I will love you still.