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

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