Cruel Design
Some say time is a long, straight line
The space between the start and the end
Fleeting lives
Like a flash of light
Breezes blow their bitter wind
Burned or buried
Scattered or carried
From a church upon a hill
Dreams we carry
Hopes we've buried
Oh I ɾemember still
If the whiskey don't kill me
The worry will
Some say time is a cruel design
The hours gone the days we spend
Memory dies
Like the sun will ɾise
Winter breaks what autumn bends
Burned or Buried
Scattered or carried
From a church up on [C7]a hill
Dreams we carry
Hopes we buried
Oh I ɾemember still
If the whiskey don't kill me
The women will
Be quiet, keep still
As the hours expire and [Bm]the minutes killed
And now turns violently to [C7]then
What does it matter?
When the sun explodes and [Bm]the world will scatter
In a wave of fire and [Bm]wind
Burned or Buried
Scattered or carried
From a church up on [C7]a hill
Dreams we carry
Hopes we buried
Oh I ɾemember still
If the whiskey don't kill me
The wondering will