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Perfect Beings
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Remnants of Shields
In the foggy late morning
You feel a shade of warning
Tilling the fields
With remnants of shields
We carve shallow trenches of hope
Catching our sweat in small flasks
Appalachia
I fell in love with the girl
Spinning on a wheel
In Appalachia
The blind dogs of the sun
Running for their someone
Alerted by the smell
Diverted to foretell
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What is coming down the road?
Could it be someone we know?
Could it be someone we've known
Someone we've known
Appalachia
Appalachia
I fell in love with the girl
Appalachia
Spinning on a wheel
Appalachia
In Appalachia
Appalachia
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