letra de old granite stones - howard kirkpatrick
well, my name was corey walker
and i was born in this old georgia town
and i was never sweet on the flowers ‘neath my feet
but i loved the scent in this sacred ground
and they said, i wasn’t much of a fighter
but that all depends on what a fighter means
as a soldier, i admit, i was less than a perfect fit
but as a boy, i was much more than i seemed
amongst these old, old granite stones
where the new names are carved amongst the old
old granite stones
hiding spots and homes
and doors to the unknown
the year was 1862
when i found the wrong path home
and they thought i was blind but my eyes saw just fine
my fear saved me from these stones
and they said i was more than lucky
but that all depends on what lucky means
because there’s a wrong and a right
and there’s a black and a white
and luck is the shadow in between
between these old, old granite stones
where the new names are carved amongst the old
old granite stones
hiding spots and homes
and doors to the unknown
oh, and you tell me
is it better to die young with honor or to live long in shame?
is the curse the same?
so now, i tend to this graveyard
like my father before the war
and i hide in the dirt shoveled aside
and i wait for the devil to settle the score
and my eyes, they watch the wounds heal
my soul, it never did
and the flowers they grow bury secrets deep below
in the bones of heroes we hid
amongst these old, old granite stones
where the new names are carved amongst the old
old granite stones
hiding spots and homes
and doors to the unknown
old granite stones
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