Hell on the Throat

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

And all these years in the cold play hell on the throat
'Till everything I say burns like cinders
Well, it's hard to belong to a girl or a song
In the crease of a strangling winter
It's strange to be lost, stranger still to belong
On the strings of a twisting line

Along the way the turns are sharp
No one said it would be easy
I must admit, I thought the trip
Was better made in younger seasons

But all these years in pursuit made a man of a fool
'Til every word I say is unwavered
Well, it's hard to belong to a girl or a song
In the case of a selfish believer
It's strange to be lost, stranger still to belong
On the strings of a twisting line

Well it's hard to belong to a girl or a song
In the case of a selfish believer
It's strange to be lost, stranger still to belong
On the strings of a twisting line

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
I will love you still