Shane Pleasants
All the places that youve seen, Wrapped in watercolored dreams,
And the stock yove placed in what youve lost the cuts that make you bleed.
And the overbearing clouds, that never let you out,
From under storms and tell the world would start to grind you down
They took the names, they took the names,
They took them down to the river and they washed them all away.
They took the names, they took the names,
They took them down to the river and they washed them all away.
All Away