Not a man, nothing more he only knows what he's not
He has a clot in his veins, keeping love from his heart
His eyes grow colder with each shoulder turned away in disgrace
His legs are shaking from the wading through the decades of waste
Searching for meaning in any place that he can
He's looking for peace with a gun in his hand
Searching for meaning in any place that he can
He's looking for peace with a gun in his hand
Swing low burning chariot, pick him up and carry him home
Burn slow fading chariot, burn slow, burn slow
He poured his heart into that California sunset once again
So when the morning comes
It could rise home in Massachusetts
But his heart is gone sailing over the Pacific
I guess he's wrong, home is never where your heart is, after all
She's not a goddess she's a statue and she's stuck in one place
She's a one woman cult and the mirror's her faith
She can't pass by it without crying, falling down on knees
She prays to whoever listens to change what she sees
Swing low, swing low
So I guess he's wrong, home is never where your heart is
Burn slow, burn slow
So I guess he's wrong, home is never where your heart is
Swing low, swing low
They poured their hearts into the road that they traveled on
Burn slow, burn slow
So I guess he's wrong, home is never where your heart belongs
Swing low burning chariot, pick him up and carry him home
Burn slow fading chariot, burn slow, burn slow
He poured his heart into that California sunset once again
So when the morning comes
It could rise home in Massachusetts
But his heart is gone sailing over the Pacific
I guess he's wrong, home is never where your heart is, after all
His name was death, and hell followed with him
Walking through fire his feet burned and blistered
He called for help but no one would listen
His name was death, and hell followed with him
Walking through fire his feet burned and blistered
So he called to his demons and dragged them down with him
Dragged them down with him
(After all)
