The Rifle

Album: The Pirate's Gospel (2004)
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  • I've been knockin' on that door in my sleep
    Fighting the fireplace glow
    Knockin' on that door in my sleep
    Fighting the fireplace glow
    To keep me away
    To keep me away from home

    Papa, get the rifle from its place above the French doors!
    They're comin' from the woods!
    Oh! They're comin' from the woods!
    And mama you're running too
    Oh! My mama, you're running too
    Brother, I'm so sorry that you watched the paintings burn

    I've been holding onto the gold
    When letting go would free my hand
    And I've been tying your tongue in a knot
    Oh! I've been tying your tongue in a knot
    To wrap this death
    To wrap this death in a sheet

    Papa, get the rifle from its place above the French doors!
    They're comin' from the woods!
    Oh! They're comin' from the woods!
    And mama you're running too
    Oh! My mama, you're running too
    Brother, I'm so sorry that you watched the paintings burn

    I can't hide the dirty paths down that carpet anymore
    There were too many heavy boots
    There were too many heavy boots
    There were too many big black boots
    And there were too many little brown shoes
    Marching through
    So I'm counting it to the sky
    Oh! I'm counting it to the sky
    And moving back to face the lack of home
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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