Hill of our home

We've left our homes
For the dusty road
Though it weighed us down
To go

Now, see, we're burning in the sun
Fire in our bellies

Today ate us up
And never chewed
Though we still roll along this hill

The change that we don't see
Is happening to me
Though you are watching

It is cold, it is dark
In the big black heart
Of the wood, of the hill
Of the home

We are out of our depth
And our width and breadth
We are out of the pan
In the fire

It is green, it is damp
By the burning lamp
Of the woods, of the hills
Of the home

Oh, how I long, for the things I have
For the burden I don't own

Do I know how to please your head?
Pour the contents back
when you're spilling from my bed

The day is worn, and the spark won't come
New sore in my chest

It is cold, it is dark
In the big black heart
Of the wood, of the hill
Of the home

We are out of our depth
And our width and breadth
We are out of the pan
In the fire

Oh, you, the husband of the wife
I know you are watching
Oh, you, the husband of the wife
I know you are watching