These hands are getting tired of playing the same old chords.
This mouth is getting weary, may I borrow yours?
These bones will turn to dust, I'll slip between the boards.
These eyes are always open, always wanting more.
I'd climb through the ceiling
To find the answers in my mind,
But the roof holds me down
Against the walls.
These crooked politicians are burning in the lake.
The lawless judges serve the same eternal fate.
This house of God is darker than the river banks.
These poison arrows pierce the heart of love and hate.
I'd climb through the ceiling
To find the answers in my mind,
But the roof holds me down
Against the walls.
I'd dig my grave,
Just to find you in the way
Of me and time,
But I ain't sleeping.
The mark behind your hair is damning to the touch.
Thine eyes deceiving me, tempting all too much.
These hands have killed a man, they killed his family too.
These eyes are always open, always watching you.
I'd climb through the ceiling
To find the answers in my mind,
But the roof holds me down
Against the walls.
I'd dig my grave,
Just to find you in the way
Of me and time,
But I ain't sleeping.
Will Stewart’s “County Seat” is full of richly-detailed songs that split the difference between Americana & classic college rock. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 7, 2018
The Alabama duo's fifth album exults in dusty Americana, showcasing rich vocal harmonies alongside blissful folk instrumentation. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 31, 2024