I will miss the sunshine.
I will miss the moon.
I will miss the snowfields that put sparkles in your shoes
But I am gone, I am gone.
If this road leads to destruction, it's hell that I call home.
I could kiss you darlin
but these hands are stained.
I could beg forgiveness, but it can't bring me home again.
No, my love. No, my love.
If this road leads to destruction, it's hell that I call home.
You could throw me out, and you could burn my boat and I ain't one to wonder why.
But you brought me here to lay my stone-my love, my love- on this black day in July.
You could call me sinner, you could call me saint.
You could throw me out, you could burn my boat and I ain't one to wonder why.
But you brought me here to lay my stone, my love, my love, on this black day in July.