They were moving south.
There'd be no surviving another winter here.
Two souls, the father and son,
Having lost all, looking his way.
He held a son's hand as they stumbled through the woods.
The other hand he held out before him.
They bore on south in the days and weeks to follow.
Solitary and dogged. raw hill country.

Just once at time.
You've got it, you've lost it, you've died.
Once again let's see your life line -
It's disappointing and getting worse.
But never getting close.

But it's okay - I'm that kid, who's getting older on his way.
So easy to say - but you feel you'll get it all one day.
But I'm okay - It won't be too hard until be safe.
I'll just get back such the rave day!

The right dreams for a man in peril were dreams of peril and all else was the call of languor and of death.
From day dreams on the road there was no waking.
He plodded on.

But it's okay - I'm that kid, who's getting older on his way.
So easy to say - but you feel you'll get it all one day.
But I'm okay - It won't be too hard until be safe.
I'll just get back such the rave day!