Arms twist and strain
Under taut tattered reigns
As oxen thunder along
Clay dusted fields
Perform for my meals
Torn and cut open to breathe
We only pass in this world
holding our heads against
The weather and the days
Upward we sway
Shooting sparks in the sky
A dusty brown shack
Under watchful trees branched
On a hillside that lists to the sea
Faith, grace and zeal
She cooks all the meals
her feet never touching the floor
We only pass in this world
holding our heads against
The weather and the days
Upward we sway
Shooting sparks in the sky
Cut from my blood
A slow ascent won
To a heaven centered with her
On a simple small bed
we both lay our heads
held in the warmth of a dream
We only pass in this world
holding our heads against
The weather and the days
Upward we sway
Shooting sparks in the sky