Country Stone

There is one thing that can settle my bones,
And that is the grinding of that old country stone,
I see a bruised shield held secure in your hands,
Scars are only skin deep as you limp through these lands,
The battles I've been through have made it all worth it,
From the hay bails all the way down to the bay,
Could not be as lonely as they say you'd make me,
I have my reasons and I know why I came

Your child is weaping under vacant charred moonlight,
Prehended by ashes that are filling the sky,
The night was upon us so we built a fire,
And the chill will grow until the flames expire,
I'll sing you a song so that one day a chorus,
Will ring through the canyon and paint a bright forest,
And you will no longer have to close your blue eyes,
As sparks from the grindstone all meet their demise