Those Lands Where the Crows Fly

See the hills of sorrow, river of blood
From the higher places, watch the flood
See the fields are burning, time to die
When you're six feet under, momma cries

Oh my lord, my home
Oh my lord, my home

Ask the one with feathers, how to live
He will answer quickly, just forgive
Be the son of nature, of the god
Do it always simply, use the heart

Oh my lord, my home
Oh my lord, my home

We gotta make it just this way
Burning the churches it's. not how we play
Great Smoky mountains are the home
Outlaws and bandits keep on fightin' the law

Look the Moon is rising, hear the wolves
Maybe storm is coming, calm the mules
Lock the doors and open, humble bar
Gimme all that whisky, in the jar



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