Soaking in your history
I climbed that hill every Sunday
Cutting my knee on the thorns
Dripping like crushed raspberry
Picked just before this fall
Soak the wound in salt
Wound in salt
Bathed In salt
Bathed in salt
Soaking in your history
Revel in the infancy
We climb that hill again today
But the brambles have withdrawn
The skies call in the cavalry
Swollen clouds begin assault
We surrender it all
Succumb to all
Succumb to all
Succumb to all
Soaking in your history
Revel in the infancy
Soaking in your history
Revel in the infancy
