The Rifle - Alela Diane

Oh I’ve been knocking on that door in my sleep

Fight my fireplace glow

I’ve been knocking on that door in my sleep

Fight my fireplace glow to keep me away,

To keep me away from home

Papa gets the rifle from its place above the French doors

They’re coming from the woods

Oh they’re coming from the woods

And mama you’re running too

Oh my mama you’re running too

Mama you’re running too

Oh my mama you’re running too

Brother I’m so sorry that you watched the Patens burn

And I’ve been holding onto the gold

When letting go would free my hands

And I’ve been tying your tongue in a knot

Oh I’ve been tying your tongue in a knot

To wrap this death, to wrap this death in a sheet

And Papa gets the rifle from its place above the French doors

They’re coming from the woods

Oh they’re coming from the woods

And mama you’re running too

Oh, my mama you’re running too

Mama you’re running too

Oh, my mama you’re running too

Brother I’m so sorry that you watched the Patens burn

I can’t hide the dirty pads down there carpet anymore

No, no I can’t hide the dirty pads down there carpet anymore

There were too many heavy boots

There were too many heavy boots

There were too many heavy boots

And there were too many big black boots

And there were too many little brown shoes marching though

So I’m counting it to the sky

Oh I’m counting it to the sky

I’m counting it to the sky

Oh I’m counting it to the sky

And moving back

Oh I’m moving back to Face the lack of home