Strings of Grass - Jenny Wilson

Like a song you have sung

Ever since you were young, little baby boy

The words tattooed upon your tongue

You can tell the right from wrong

Know your mothers and fathers of generations

You know where you belong

All though this song is drifting like a gas

Played on a guitar made of driftwood

Strings of grass

It’s hard to catch, impossible to stop

Now, go with the flow, with the rhythm, the rhyme

The stampin' on the floor

I put a chalk in my hand, draw a land

Draw the lines for rivers and streets

Raise a mountain made of concrete

Grab a stone, pick some straws, build a shelter

Please come here, I’ll let you in

I hold you tight against my skin

Oh love, the hissing sound of you

Whining like a harsh hymn

Howling like a blues

I know you’re impossible to stop

So I go with the flow, with the rhythm, the rhyme

The stampin' on the floor

Let it blow, let it blow

Just don’t let me know

Where it will blow

Let it blow, let it blow

Just don’t let me know

Where we will go

Hold my breath, I can’t control

I’m sliding, falling down in a hole

Oh, wow!

Oh, man, love is like no other song

Oh, please let them in

Let the choir sing

To the beat, to the flow

The stampin' on the floor

Now what about the things I’ve learnt

I stare at the blue sky

Potatoes getting burnt

I can’t explain, but nothing seems too far away

I can have it if I’d like

I think I can, if I dare

Like a song you have sung

Ever since you were young, little baby boy

The words tattooed upon your tongue

You must know the right from wrong

Know the rhythm, the rhyme, the beating

The stampin' on the floor

Let it blow, let it blow

Just don’t let me know

Where it will blow

Let it blow, let it blow

Just don’t let me know

Where we will go

Where we will go