Memory Tapes - Thru the Field текст песни

Walk on through the field, it’s already late
I swear I heard somebody laughing
At all my mistakes
Forest of hands, a shot through the ground
I’m glad that my heels worn unlikely
And drag me back town
Under the ground, never alone
The voices are whispering softly
That this is my home
Thought I heard they call my name, before
I keep it down, all fall
Are you calling me up Looking out for your head, back trying
Oh, I don’t know you
I’m not going out