Meadows - The Call lyrics
[Meadows - The Call lyrics]
The 16th of November, 1963 that
Dreaded night, when everything changed
Nothing was ever the same
The 16th of November
1963nothing was ever the same
Drunken communion this was his Friday night
Mass the broken preacher just as
Broken at home his hand was
Clutched around the Good Book
(the other a shot glass) flaming
Tongues preaching fireball and brimstone
The shepherd lost his way back
(He couldn’t find his way
Back) He allowed false
Idols on thе throne (the flask)
The flask with a goldеn calf
It started slow one decision to next one
He wasn’t always this way he
Loved his wife, their son, another on
The way a slippery slope
Isolated alone satan’s kiss and
Whispers growing "Just one
Know one would have
To know forbidden fruit, hanging low
On the vine after all
He turned water to wine"
Drunken communion this was his Friday night
Mass the broken preacher just as
Broken at home his hand was
Clutched around the Good Book
(the other a shot glass) flaming
Tongues preaching fireball and brimstone
The shepherd lost his way back
(He couldn’t find his way
Back) He allowed false
Idols on the throne (the flask)
The flask with a golden calf
He recalls his Father’s words etched in
Stone on his heart grown cold:
"Don’t get a hold of something that
Can get a hold of you"
(He watched them) Asleep, like trees
That swayed in lament the hush of the limbs
As they break and they bend
The sagging moss hung, like thoughts in his
Head the leaves on the ground
Creating a bed
(like tears) that soaked their pillows yet
He left like the wind
Blowing through the weeping willows
Dreaded night, when everything changed
Nothing was ever the same
The 16th of November
1963nothing was ever the same
Drunken communion this was his Friday night
Mass the broken preacher just as
Broken at home his hand was
Clutched around the Good Book
(the other a shot glass) flaming
Tongues preaching fireball and brimstone
The shepherd lost his way back
(He couldn’t find his way
Back) He allowed false
Idols on thе throne (the flask)
The flask with a goldеn calf
It started slow one decision to next one
He wasn’t always this way he
Loved his wife, their son, another on
The way a slippery slope
Isolated alone satan’s kiss and
Whispers growing "Just one
Know one would have
To know forbidden fruit, hanging low
On the vine after all
He turned water to wine"
Drunken communion this was his Friday night
Mass the broken preacher just as
Broken at home his hand was
Clutched around the Good Book
(the other a shot glass) flaming
Tongues preaching fireball and brimstone
The shepherd lost his way back
(He couldn’t find his way
Back) He allowed false
Idols on the throne (the flask)
The flask with a golden calf
He recalls his Father’s words etched in
Stone on his heart grown cold:
"Don’t get a hold of something that
Can get a hold of you"
(He watched them) Asleep, like trees
That swayed in lament the hush of the limbs
As they break and they bend
The sagging moss hung, like thoughts in his
Head the leaves on the ground
Creating a bed
(like tears) that soaked their pillows yet
He left like the wind
Blowing through the weeping willows